Children in the room

children in class
Every truth without exception – no matter
who makes it – is from God.

If a bird got accused of singing too early
in the morning,

if a lute began to magically play on its own
in the square
and the enchanting sounds it made drove a pair of young lovers
into a wild, public display of passion,

if this lute and bird then got called before the inquisition
and their lives were literally at stake,

could not God walk up and say before the court,

“All acts of beauty are mine, all happen on behalf of love”?

And while God was there, testifying for our heart’s desires,
hopefully the judge would be astute enough
to brave a question,
that could go,

“Dear God, you say all acts of beauty are yours,
surely we can believe that. But what of all actions
we see in this world,

for is there any force in existence greater than the power
of your omnipresent hand?”

And God might have responded, “I like that question,”
adding, “May I ask you one as well?”

And then God would say,

“Have you ever been in a conversation when children
entered the room, and then you ceased speaking because your
wisdom knew you that they were not old enough
to benefit – to understand?

As exquisite is your world, most everyone in it
is spiritually young.

Spirituality is love, and love never wars with the minute, the day,
one’s self and others. Love would rather die
than maim a limb,
a wing.

Dear, anything that divides man from man,
earth from sky, light and dark, one religion from another…
O, I best keep silent, I see a child
just entered the

Thomas Aquinas