Despite what I see (how they fail to, with eyes hollow from time), I seek to list(in), to the breath inside;
You request the fury in my hands, tightly gripped.
You call me to follow in forgiveness.
And although almost always whispered, I hear your words of life among them.
This is the greatest of mysteries,
And mysteries, mysteries are yours, firmly held.
And your shared words, as such, are meant for receiv(in)g, not grasping.
How can I not follow?
How could I miss our beginning, our start?
How can I not rema(in), walking bl(in)dly from my heart?
This is what it is to abide: to be a part.
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