Vision and Sight

Between the limits
Of my own small scope,
I cannot see the light
That leads beyond the rubble,
Or the restoring of order
And unity of chaos.
But from this great despair
There comes a gift of hope
For in my frail uncertain thoughts
And in the worldly wreckage
There is nothing else that can be done
But to turn and cling to truth.
So in the hatred, fear and rage
Of life torn from its Source,
We may strive either for control
Or heed another voice.
For if I recognize the need
To hold this guiding hand
And trust that it will lead us
Ever to a promised land
And if I see I cannot see,
Then this greater trust will be
A witness to the Truth
And channel for the beauty
That ever is in bloom

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