Flaws and All: The Beckoning Call

Feathery, pure, white snowflakes
Fluttering to frozen ground,
Landing like young butterflies,
With never even one sound.

Sparkling, foam tipped, sheer waves
So gently bowed right o'er,
Rhythmically rolling steadily
Towards yon sandy shore.

Busy, red-headed woodpeckers
Hammering at wrinkled trunks;
Forests, fields, rickety fences
Hiding the deer and skunks.

Knuckles of a gnarled oak tree
To be harvested, as a log.
A ghostly masked, dark sunset
Wearing a dense robe of fog.

Majestic, shiny, glacier peaks,
Snow melting with icy drops.
Early morning sun reveals
Smog's veil that never stops.

Ancient log houses, barns and sheds,
Too many worn out farms.
New signs of global warming,
Both young and old alarms.

Oil spills that begin to clog
The water pipes and drains.
Greed and graft continuing, 
Fear and terror reigns.

We can all claim ownership.
The universe is ours,
The earth, sun and the moon,
Along with all the stars.

Complete, imperfect, yes they are,
Yet loved for all their worth,
Beautiful and not beautiful,
All longing for re-birth.

Such is the world we live in
Complete with flaws and all,
Thus too, responsibility,
So, heed the beckoning call.

The beautiful and the not beautiful are both our responsibility.