Red dust field transformed to lifeblood
Becomes a player, newly born
Once loved, now shunned, face down in mud
Questions, why the sudden scorn
Each fleck of dust while in the air
Floats lightly, beauty to behold
But landing, trampled unaware
Returns to dirt, no love unfolds
Gifts unseen by blinded eye
Losing, gains what once was cherished
Spectators standing idly by
Tarnished seen, however burnished
Deaf ears, executioner of choice
Views refuse to transform broader
Faith cries out with unheard voice
One fleck does not transcend another
-Liz 3/31/11
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