Being humble but men, women bore,
Out from the grass and trees we walked.
Hope was but a seed in men their fear but
Hope there was.
Has any baby came and know there was?
One foot in life the other in the grave
And yet you bore it still.
How high we've climbed, higher still, needing
Air yon mountain top, just to claim it's view.
Thin though it might be, the star's that fall
Still claim a gasp as they go rushing by.
A humble man knows evilness and knowing
It stands up to what is wrong.
Across the world this wrong we think is right,
Effecting change through books we read at night.
Then frail in loveliness each rose each thorn,
In wonder children look,
Children look to see what can't be seen.
When humble men have claimed what's right,
Through the grass their path they walked won't lead
Back to the tree's.
Copyright © James McLain | Year Posted 2017
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such an interesting write, James....10++++