The bustle of the city.
Slow, a city sunrise, before the rainbow comes out.
Different colors bursting into view, walking along side you.
All different colors. Diversity.
...
Transformation of the Heart
...
As I lay down in my comfortable bed
I throw the covers over my head.
I think of what is and is not
As well as things that should be forgot.
...
I wish to write something beautiful, but alas I can't today.
I sit inside this lonely house, day by day by day.
These walls are my prison, my tics are my chains.
...
Geneva
The bustle of the city.
Slow, a city sunrise, before the rainbow comes out.
Different colors bursting into view, walking along side you.
All different colors. Diversity.
Uncle Sam is absent, smoking a tri-colored pipe in his tri-colored suit.
He inhabits a conservative cabin. No color.
Windows closed. No light drifting in.
Geneva, a multi-colored mansion.
Ever-widening windows letting the light in.
Uncle Sam scoffs, in his dark cabin holding an upside-down flag.
'God's country' is not Godly at all. H
His tri-colored shackles, limiting his kindness to the world.
A hug for the followers of Uncle Sam.
In Geneva the Lord's kindness is limitless.
The whole world loved by a god with a smile.
Everyone's invited.
God's rainbow-colored eyes cry tears of joy.
Some might call this Naiveté;
All of the world is the same.
The rainbow dims, or disappears, as you get close.
At least there is a rainbow, and not a tri-colored cage.