Seeing through the blood

In one word, tears flowed as blood
spotting  my face, my flesh, my outer garb
as ev'ry inch of reputation built o'er years
washed down the drain of history.

Truth will do this to you
when the mirror's cleared of deflecting jell
when scabbed sores drain clean of pus
stored o'er the pain of covert sins.

Truth will be this as a word
of sorrow for deeds in ignorance wrought
or curiosity in search of light
for in blindness humans fail
are clowns in sad-face stumbling in the ring
searching for some treasure hidden in the soul
or resting 'neath layers of a burdened heart.

Truth's a word of freedom from the crucified
a dirge rising from the fallen blood
a song for the sinner and the sinned
beyond barren musings of a  faulting mouth.

For it's seeing through the blood that counts
that lays the path for a story's telling;
there the Spirit soothes the rawness of the shattered soul
reflecting rays of the exposing Sun.



*Whatever shows itself in the light of day begins as a passion in the consciousness of an individual.  None of us realize our own resources.  The more we reach into the basket, the more bred there is. We give what we don't have.
-Jean Sulivan


*Leaven has to be leaven: that's the only thing that will lift up the mass.  Pressure techniques are the worst kind of betrayal. "Go, teach ye all nations" - but you have to preach inner change.
-Jean Sulivan