I know too well what I see,
But have no means to describe thee.
The words, you see, are falling short.
And so, I struggle to comport.
I grope around in the dark.
My stories somehow miss the mark.
And so I dance and so I play,
I hope to hear what it might say . . .
The loss of humility.
In righteousness, without the right.
Through fighting for the sake of fight.
It’s easy, yes, to cast some blame.
For the divides to stay the same.
The rot, decay, absurdity,
And blindness to eternity.
Blind as well to finitude,
And captured by an attitude.
Not attitude, but an idea,
Of answers and panacea.
The cure for one and every ill,
Directed by the course of will.
These ways were so very tempting.
Now they’re forced and unrelenting.
God, animal and in between.
We can’t go back to where we’ve been.
Forgiveness only goes so far.
The door to progress, that’s what we are.
And as a door we’re subject to,
All those things that travel through.
And much does travel through these days,
And so we’re in some troubled ways.
And there I see it’s beyond words.
It surrounds and holds and girds.
Without a word, without a story,
I’m moving with an allegory.
It plays upon these human strings,
And resonates with what it brings.
These souls, we all are subject to,
The move-along with the new.
Knowing not how to define,
But for a nudge from the divine.
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