"All require mercy, for all are held captive by imaginations of violence." - Brian J. Walsh
While out walking as the evening sky turned darker,
I heard a cry, a cry for mercy, a cry for mercy on all of us,
coming from behind the fence of a reluctant neighbor.
We all require mercy. What else could give hope to
the constant undoing of everything we set ourselves to do?
There is an old war in the ground upon which we stand;
a revolution started by the distant gods we created long ago.
The gods believed in a universe where only so much spirit
could be held in the palms of their outstretched hands
such that humanity once again came up short
when the divine distribution of delight unfolded in time.
They never counted on the opening of daffodils
generating spirit enough, not only for the blossoming day,
but for all who take the time to witness the new birth.
A Thread You Follow 