for the children of eternity

Life is at once epic and insignificant.

We throw up our hands

'cause we're all gonna die

and it's hardly in our hands anyhow--

so we might as well enjoy the ride

for the time we are given...

and withholding laughter

is no way to live.

Where is your courage, o man?

To plumb these depths,
dig down to the roots of grief and love,
to seek justice and practice prayer as if fighting to break to the surface to gasp for one more breath...

to live

... with utter passion

and gracious discipline.

What if the only Perfection to pursue
     were merciful?
     Truth personal?
Yet in my pride I often find,
Knowledge and foolishness are too easily mistook.
         Where, o man, did you lose your sense of wonder?

In sum there is life and life is more than nothing and life is deep,

breaking boxes into beyonds.

Idolize nothing, I have decided.

Worship,

pursue,

dwell in One thing, but only if it is worthy-- 

if it is more wondrous than all else I have seen.

We're all children from first to last anyhow,

underneath wrinkles and bitterness and years of scorn

an entire eternity holds our hands and spins us in circles, like children--

we might yet fly!--

safe in his Arms,

Trust Truth, He tells us,

for trust is love and trust is faith and Love is worth believing in.

So shut tight your eyes, hold your hands over your ears,

ignore the apathy and defy the taunts and cry at the top of your lungs:

'HOPE! DARE TO HOPE!'--

and dance like the fool you are.