Why do I choose to serve with my heart?

Why do your utmost to seek out life, If it is only for the betterment of others, Could it be to light up that child’s face, As the mid-night sky as she has fallen from grace, With her simplistic dirty hair and worn out clothing, Sweet little curls that beg your merciless charities, How could one even ask why to those unpretentious eyes, Where once there were rivers of tears, Those have now run dry, How could one, ask why? Why move heaven and earth to seek out life, If it only to tell the story of a small impression less babe, A babe born to small to see the dawn light, Kept in incubation, too sick to be held up in love, And to young to return that love given to him, But that is still dependent on your merciless charities, The sweet soft touch of the hand that serves, So comforting, so wondrously loving, That one could not ask more, So then, how could one ask why? Why leave no stone unturned to seek out life, If it is only to play the role that uses kindness to move mountains, When the only weapon can’t be stopped is the smile, When a smile fights all adversities of growing up a child, Which is the most torturous way to grow up, When the name calling and remarks are two much to bare, And the child’s arms to small to fight back with a blow, You teach that child to lift up their chin, And fight back with a grin, Do this, and how could one ask why? Who do I choose to serve, If only to enlighten the lives of others, To look toward a better day, A day when famine and hunger are things of past, When even the smallest children are shown the care they desire, And when children are taught to fight not with their fist, For it is too small to hit with, But to use their mind as a sign of strength, And to hold their head up high with you, their role model in their eye, Then never will one have the nerve to ask WHY? Written April 14th, 2002 © on Apr 14 2002 05:25 AM PST   0 • 9