Hymn for Resolve

Painting and poem courtesy of Nancy Maxson

Hymn for resolve

Were you there
when they cut down those tall trees? Lord.

Did you see how they paid them
not to care? Lord.

Do they know what they have done:
‘just a job’; they’re glad they’re done

Oh, No. No. More struggle’s still to come.

Even the capitol rich
will get sick with a periodic itch

from the dis-ease of loving money
that cannot please

when they cannot drink and cannot breathe
they’ll know the glory of the trees.

But didn’t our hearts break when
they cut down all those trees? Lord.