God bless the grass that grows thru the crack.
They roll the concrete over it to try and keep it back.
The concrete gets tired of what it has to do,
It breaks and it buckles and the grass grows thru,
And God bless the grass.
God bless the truth that fights toward the sun,
They roll the lies over it and think that it is done.
It moves through the ground and reaches for the air,
And after a while it is growing everywhere,
And God bless the grass.
God bless the grass that grows through cement.
It's green and it's tender and it's easily bent.
But after a while it lifts up its head,
For the grass is living and the stone is dead,
And God bless the grass.
God bless the grass that's gentle and low,
Its roots they are deep and its will is to grow.
And God bless the truth, the friend of the poor,
And the wild grass growing at the poor man's door,
And God bless the grass.
Here's an old folk song by Melvina Reynolds in the 60s...reimagined and interpreted by Seth Mountain...one that carries all kinds of meaning in the here and now! I'm thinking of this as a song for worship, an anthem for peoples of faith committed to God's resistance and earth's perseverence. Thanks again to the musicians at this year's Bartimaeus Kinsler Institute for the music, the story, and the inspiration!