“The Wild Flower Blooms” by Trevor Witt
The wild flowers grow,
Without human hands,
Without my interference,
Without my pesticide protection.
The wild flowers grow in sunlight,
With the help of the rain,
Without any sprinkler,
Without fertilizer to feed them.
The wild flowers bloom,
In my heart and in yours.
As wild as the lion,
As beautiful as the rose,
The wild flower blooms,
No matter what else grows.
“Whose Blood?” by Trevor Witt
“Whose blood cries out to me?”
Shouted G-d at the angels guarding the Earth.
“Whose blood cries out to me?
Does it belong to peasants or men of great worth?”
The angels, perplexed, and scared as they were,
Replied, “We were not watching, but only singing your praise.
Please forgive us, for we were absent on duty,
We never imagined for this to happen, not since ancient days.”
G-d said, “The blood of Abel cried out to me,
And you think I would not hear,
The blood of all my creatures,
The blood of creations I hold dear?
Is it the blood of the woman killed by a jealous lover?
Or the blood of the man robbed and killed in his shop?
Is it the blood of an elephant killed for his ivory tusks?
Or is it the blood of a woman raped and killed after dusk?
Is it the blood of women who died in childbirth?
Or is it the blood of men who died at war?
Is it the blood of the Sunnis or the Shiites?
The blood of monotheists or of those who came before?”
The angels, ashamed of not keeping watch,
Grew sad and guilty and soon began to cry,
“Oh G-d, most magnificent, most gracious on high,
Please forgive us. Do you not see the tears bleeding from our eyes?”
…
Meanwhile, on Earth a baby was born and later peed in the doctor’s face.
G-d saw and heard this and laughed and rolled around in heaven,
“Dear angels, do not despair, for though there is much pain,
There is also joy and laughter, and I have smiled again.
Though I chastised you for falling asleep at the helm,
I am aware of all the blood spilled in my realm.
All is known to me, all is heard, and all is seen.
My anger is because you do not know this.”
“Born Without A Label” by Trevor Witt
I was born without a label,
No name tattooed upon my heart,
No country stamped upon my foot.
I was born without a label,
No religion tied to me at birth.
I was born without a label,
As is every creature on Earth.
I knew that I was human,
Because other people told me so,
But I knew that I was half-animal,
As I watched the speedy cheetahs go.
I knew that I was special,
Because I thought differently from everyone else,
But I knew that I was the same,
Because my shit stinks as everyone’s excrement smells.
I was born without a label,
Filled with blood and bile.
I was born without a label,
Only a mind filled with guile.
I was born without a tribe,
Without a language of my own,
I was born without a label,
But into one I have grown.
I was born a baby,
And will die a man.
But I am only an amalgamation of matter,
I may be buried or turn into ashes in a can.
My soul you cannot possess,
My heart you cannot chain down,
For a label-less dream,
Flies far above the ground.
And so my spirit wanders,
And hovers around my sorrow,
And so my spirit stills itself,
Still in splendid love of the beauty of tomorrow.
Born without a label,
Dead without a face,
Love lives on,
Without a physical trace.
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