Chaos is not a mess.
Look how the numbers of today order themselves
into primal states of energy
waiting to be interpreted into peace.
Along the walls in long, well-arranged, wooden pews
sit the straight-backed, strangely bemused,
thinking, "Here we go again."
Disestablish now.
Redemption is at work in the tumult.
Our forebears sowed the seeds for the harvest
we now reap with our own bleeding hands.
The goal of this moment becomes the burden of the next.
This, a dream? A blessing? Or worse, a curse?
A Thread You Follow 