" SIFTING THE MYSTERIES "

The dream was gone, something had been taken
It wasn't his soul that he regretted having sifted, but the earthen sun
In all its splendor, had been taken from his sight, he cry's alone now
His head in his hands, an open tin cup nearby, clinking, to coins dropping in
Creating, a new world for him to sift through, so he begins to count the lights
That he'd forgotten, since his day had turned to night, and he had begun to cry
It's the wonder, he began to wonder, as he stood and stretched inside
It's the wonder, that had anticipated his birth into glorious accolades
It's the benefit of having given, that he found had saved him in the end
But not the end in the ways of men, but in celestial courtroom justice
Where every truth forever begins
In silent contemplation, born, from a burst of stars
That light up as we behold them, and sleep when we're not around
It's the world of God-given wonder, and marvelous mysteries
That men, sometimes turn a blind eye to, and very seldom agree
That there exists an unseen current, heaving, beneath the chests of men
A calming presence, running through you, and then through me
Sifting and shifting, and returning us as noble beings
To the struggles we come prepared for, as mortal men
To receive our accolades, and of course, to kneel and pray
And marvel at our maker, for sifting the mysteries
And helping us to see them,
First in you,
And then,
In me...

Tony Taylor    (Chicago)