Stop your pointing fingers, loves,
Stop assigning blame.
Stop pretending you know better,
For we live by one shared, distant flame.
But how, you will ask, do I keep from falling,
Without first extending my hand?
How do I survive this Hell,
When nothing gets properly planned?
I feel so much better when I claw and I grab,
You will continue to plead.
And I feel so much better when it’s my hand that lashes,
When some other body breaks and bleeds.
I start to feel better when I pull someone down,
Into this dark, angry land of the damned.
So tell me why, self-righteous one, you’ll ocean away my sand.
No, Dearest Loves,
That’s not why I’ve come,
You’ve simply misunderstood.
I’d never dream of doing so, even if I could.
Let’s take a moment to understand, hard though it may seem,
That where we see sin,
There is neither you nor I,
Instead there is only we.
Sinners, broken, flailing about,
We’re inclined to stumble and fall.
But look for the light and soon you will find,
It’s each other we’ve had through it all.
When this we remember, it’s harder to feel
That one sinner bears all the weight.
We’re all fully culpable, yes indeed,
But we can also all be redeemed.
And when this maddening struggle is over,
We’ll stand once more side-by-side.
And then, Dearest Loves,
We’ll be truly United,
Still in name,
New in heart,
New in mind.