Spirit's Truth

SPIRIT’S TRUTH
By
Richard Vance


I’ve somehow known all along,
The crisp clean air on an October morn,
The mighty oak, ripples on a pond,
The low sad cry of the morning dove,
The eagle soars!

Look around at nature’s awe,
We all can see, from coast to coast,
In fact, around the globe, East to West,
In many tongues, in the Here and Now,
When it all began!

They may be black or white or red or yellow,
It is all the same, unable to be separated
by the will of man. It simply is, forever more,
Not caring who believes, or if…
Surely here, to be believed, or not.

Unable to comprehend, someone to hurt,
To destroy, to kill, for all are one,
The soul cries forth, and knows for sure,
The earthly shell sees, hears, and teeters back and forth,
Some arrive and some do not.

And in the end, it will all be known, by all,
For good or bad, moving on through misty veil, majestic light,
Or once again, return and walk the path so worn,
To see, and stop the endless plight, follow the heart,
And grow a spark of love!