I rearrange my words so carefully in
a world imploding violently
Like all of humanity
is made of glass.
Fragile.
Only we can’t see through
to each other’s hearts.
Our lives echo words spoke long ago
by Pilate, who gave the crowd a show –
what is truth?
He asked.
So many of us do not know.
And we are fragile.
I rest my gaze
and cry.
How many truths have you known
that have been a lie?
What is it that you want to find?
If I tell you I’ve found it
will you turn a blind eye?
We can’t see through
to each other’s hearts.
Please see through
to mine.
Because I had a dream you spoke my name
like you were ready for your chains to break.
That the burden you carried
was too much to take.
But I woke up
and here you are.
Still.
Fragile.
Why is freedom so hard to sell?
I need you to hear me
I need you to tell.
I rearrange my words so carefully
only trying to get you to see –
there’s a house built on stone that’s not easily shaken
it weathers the storms and cannot be taken.
There’s truth that exists
you know nothing about
in this world that is busy imploding itself.
Truth has come
Truth is free
And although it was mocked
as it clung to the tree,
Truth is not
fragile.
fancifullove 