Mother Mary
Lost in the desert
Why do our children of today turn away from your painted
face?
Have we become so seduced by our quick coffee and cards of
gold?
That nothing but the timing of perfection matters?
Not history
Nor wealth in family
Nor the quiet conversation in the corner
Nor the beauty of “It’s just an old rope horse”
We find value in the shoes
The ones with the red soles
Or souls
Whatever it is we have lost
Whatever we did
To become versions of the generation this country was built
on
Where has our hard work gone?
Where has our pride gone?
Our “Let me help you”?
Our belief?
Our beauty?
Our America?
Our God?
Find them
Look for them
In the dark places
In the streets
In the sky’s where the lights cannot reach
You will find us
Turning our faces
To the Light
And Mother Mary’s painted face
a very nice read as i welcome in my 27th year today.
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