March Fourth

Note:  I didn't bring this poem out on March fourth because I didn't feel as if we could claim victory in the battle, yet. However, after spending a day off cutting bushes, mowing grass and pulling weeds in the balmy, sunny breeze, I can honestly say-we won!

March Fourth

March fourth is the command.
This time the gray comes down from the North                                             
and the blue rises up from the South-
tearing across a tear stained sky.
Moaning and howling,
twisting and turning,
Oak leaves rush across long stretches of pavement.
The remains pile higher.

March fourth is the command.

The Gray presses in fierce fury
and fires with all its forces-
blinding the Southern shores.                                                                    
Dust and sea oats,
dry earth and flood,
Sand dunes rise blocking long stretches of ocean,
Sunday afternoon pleasures erode.

March fourth is the command.
Blue burst across the Southern sky,
(and astounds watchers standing by)
brushing away the furious gray.
Spinning and shaping,
shoving and shouting,
Green rises up through brown earth,                                                                
the royal blue dome sparkles.

As battles subside, the South finds its ease,
tossing flower caps gently

in balmy breeze-
while the gray creeps away to far, northern land,
awaiting its next foreordained command.


For sun and moon and stars are bright, and when sent to do a service, they are obedient. So also the lightening, when it flashes, is widely seen; and the wind likewise blows in every land.
When God commands the clouds to go over the whole world, they carry out his command.
Letter of Jeremiah 60-62                                               Peace. Love, Linda