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The doubt that made you lay down your hands
and give up on it
got into you when a ladder grew
and asked you to climb it
We had no problem asking for bread
but I could not see
my hands worthy to create or reach to;
the craft had been spit on.
And what if I leap forth into the ocean?
Will you still hear me
calling for help when I need to be fed?
A bomb was blowing up sacred sites
while you stood on the sidelines
Ready to rebuild, renew and refill
the crater with heartache
Falling, we find that all our worries have wings
Do you hear the
voice of silence that's keeping me fed.
The lawyer cannot refuse you
The paint on your body is bloody
So take off your shoes
For the place you stand is holy land
Somewhere a child is stirring wine with rain
and out it came like
confetti on my friend's wedding day.
So please keep creating while it is decaying
The worm still needs a home
And beauty will stay
for what is redeemed
will never go away
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