Truth is the trees reaching toward the sky, splaying their limbs,
sprinkled with buds,
the arrival of the robins and the cardinals, their bold songs
ringing out,
the squirrel poised inquisitively on a branch,
the grasses below emerging from the remains of the fallen
leaves.
Truth is the soul looking up into the arms of the trees,
hearing the trills of the winged creatures,
washed by the sun and air,
eyes searching up and up into the blue, toward the unseen stars.
Truth is the butterfly emerging from its cocoon, intent to fly.
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Stand for Freedom
earth sky air 