We stand between truth and falsehood,
At the junction of the way,
And remember You are the way.
The rules of man lead only to the end of man:
An end called death.
And the screeching sound of our own confusion
Is the screeching brakes 9of those who turn around.
Do not embrace the lie.
He is not the whispered story
That the wind blows to oblivion;
He is not an archaic system
That our wisdom has outgrown;
He is not the foolish credulity
Of the ones afraid to say no!
He is more real than the sun that burns you,
The earth that upholds you,
The sea that encircles you,
The atoms and the cells.
His life is no illusion.
He will cut away from you,
With surgery most crystal and precise,
All things that are not life.
You will become scarecrow:
Ragged, mocked, alone:
In the field, hanging in the rain,
Wondering and afraid.
And it will be for gladness,
Such gladness as the morning stars
Sang together to proclaim:
A masterpiece of glory.