Swinging from the Branches

It's the beauty all around, that calls sweetly to deaf ears. Persisting that it's presence be found, but not many hear. A voice melodic, story hypnotic, with love and sadness intermingled. Eternal love and freedom began with strife. Remember, friends. History will always call, to all. If it takes my allegory to remember the glory from above that breathed life into the American dream, then my heart pours forth the turmoil. Breaking our tie and splitting away, across the water. Do or die, across the bay. In His name, we came, in awe of his presence, we saw... what he intended for us. My heart yearns for you my friend, to learn of our glorious victory by sailing the sea, across the ocean blue, but the story is nothing new. The voice is but a whisper now, quiet now. Ripped from the throats of the few, that remember truth. We have NOT sipped the cool-aid! Our nation came on true boats, seeking freedom. In His name. For God so loved the world, yet to this our world has unfurled. Do you see the tree? the massive shelter and strength of fifty branches under which we can sing? Our lips can bring forth praise, but instead we draw vile spit. Down at the roots. Down. The very roots grown by the WORD. It's voice is CHOSEN not to be heard, Now the children swinging beneath the branches are singing of political correctness, and ignoring the glorious roots. Fear in their eyes fed from the lies of what we should and should not say. Many lips many voices many tongues spitting fire. Up in smoke, the tree will fall if we fall to see... It's okay. It's alright to speak up for our roots, yet we grow meek, for our oppressors grow louder. One nation. Under God. One and indivisible. You kingdom come. Your will be done, on earth as in heaven. I hear you oh lord. Your beauty all around calls sweetly to my deft ears. Persisting your presence be found, but not many hear.