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it's a lot of inside-out living, transparency our friend but the glass is covered in fingerprints with noses pressed up close to see everything that we just can't touch.
lend me your eyes, i can change what you see
but your heart, you must keep totally free
:: mumford and sons
sometimes the glass is there as a leaning post, something to press against and keep us steady, keep us close to the world but just out of reach.
are we afraid of the world outside, the puddles that might be deeper than we first imagine, the sharp stones that might cut our feet and make us bleed?
are we afraid of the world outside, the puddles that might be deeper than we first imagine, the sharp stones that might cut our feet and make us bleed?
there's an unsure-ity, an aspect of hesitation that comes hand in hand with that sunlight, oh that sunlight that kisses the glass and sends a thousand rainbows our way...always just out of reach.
and thumbprints, one of a kind, smoosh across the glass as we press our palms there like little children and wait...
...we wait for the day that the blinders come off, that we grow up enough to pass milk up for the meat and stand strong on the Rock that is greater, stronger.
and the curtain is torn and the glass shatters like ice from a shed roof in a sparkling crash that sings
freedom.
and thumbprints, one of a kind, smoosh across the glass as we press our palms there like little children and wait...
...we wait for the day that the blinders come off, that we grow up enough to pass milk up for the meat and stand strong on the Rock that is greater, stronger.
and the curtain is torn and the glass shatters like ice from a shed roof in a sparkling crash that sings
freedom.
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and on and on and on and on it goes
till it overwhelms and satisfies my soul.
:: just one thing remains ::
it's childlike faith that never falters and never changes.
it's innocent hearts in adult bodies.
it's wise serpents and gentle doves curled together like the promise in Isaiah, two things so foreign and so deadly one to another made sanctified and holy because a little child shall lead them.
and so we press bare feet to hardwood floors and press our noses to glass as we wait until we're grown, just a little stronger with roots a little deeper.
then comes the shatter
// and then comes the light.










