It came from the Fields of Wheat


There is an uncertainty in my home,

It seeps from my marriage,

It curls from my privacy.

There is a danger in our country,

It comes to steal from our children,

It comes to burn the innocent.

And there is darkness in our House.

It sweeps through our laws.

It glides through our roads.

It wears a strong and stable face,

Yet I prefer the red rose.



The many flowered fields

We are red roses in rivers of blue,

Fed by compassion, and dismissed by the few.

We will stand against the waves,

For our red hearts will never be slaves.

For freedom and love we will cherish,

and on justice we pride,

we will feed our children, for there our future resides.

Our triumph is in our communities, our strength in our numbers,

For if we stand together, we shall never be torn asunder.

So rise and rise, never to be riven.

For we are meadows that cover the earth,

And if cerulean darkness comes we will devour it  first.