A little bit of life

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Life is in the grains of sand
that let fragile sprouts push them aside.
Life is in the moss that clings
to the sides of moist brick walls.
Life is in the first breath, the first cry
of a newborn child.
Life is in the hands of the young,
held in the hands of the very old.
Life is not in the blood that is spilt
by the violence and hate of man.
Life is not in the little bodies
that are still washing up on foreign shores.
Life is no longer in the hearts and minds
of those who would wish harm unto others.
Such people are dead. As dead to God
as they are to the rest of humanity.
Such people, no matter how much they yell
will never have a place in whatever awaits.
Life. Life is in the mercy of those
who stand in the cold to comfort the lost.
And give them what little they can
to replace their homelands, distant gone.
Life is in the tears of the those
who saw the devastation that hate can wring.
Life is the only thing we have, worth possessing.
Not the phone we carry, nor the money we have.
Life is in pity and forgiveness and compassion,
not returning hate with hate, fear with fear.
I stand with life, with peace, with man.
Let those who wish me harm, do so.
This life is all I have, and if I can give it
to bring you peace, then so be it.
Take my wretched life.
And may you live forever
in the knowledge of what you have done.

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