The Difference

It struck me once that not only is “beauty skin deep” but so are races.

I challenge the bigots of this world to differentiate a white man’s spleen from a black man’s.

There are though, I perceived, other kinds of races, the spiritual kinds. The philosophical race, the creative race, the hating race, the loving race, the wise race, and the foolish race.

And when all is said and done, are not these spiritual races far more important to recognize than the physical.

I, for one, was convinced of this as I wrote this song.

The Words:

Brown and green and blue
they come some speckled
as with dust from the sun

Wider some with fear
or wonder darker some
with lies they have spun

Startled some to see
quite immaculately
a fusing that angels
still shun
has begun

Brittle white and gray
and cold and molding still
the darkness of earth

Ribs and arms and spines
and heels and skulls
to feed the seedling at birth

Rising then she grows
in a pattern that goes
from nothing into nothing
of worth
to rebirth

Who will stir the heart
to find the part
that wonders

Who will seek to quell
the lowly shell
that plunders

Who will rise
to know the spell
of earth

Two and two and ten
and ten are arms and
legs and fingers and toes

Ears and eyes and lips
and teeth and tongue
they pray that somehow she knows

A liver and spleen
as alike and unseen
as the ocean of perils
and throes
she bestows

And you find it all
some vast appalling
sameness

As you search you find
your perch a
blind-and-lameness

With a very
lively heart
within

So you shed your feet
to rise to greet
the tender

And you shed your eyes
to realize
the mender

As the everlasting
song
we sing

Ulf Wolf
January 1998/May 2015
opyright © 2015 by Wolfstuff