Drive Poem by Mary Champion

The soft voice of Truth speaks in vain
at the back of your mind.
Fixated on all of the pain
you are deaf and you're blind.

Recover your hunger and thirst,
your passion for meaning,
the drive that impelled you at first -
sometimes overweening.

The drive that can deaden the hurt
that cripples you lately,
that raises your eyes from the dirt
and helps you see plainly.

The damascene moment will come
with the blinding white light,
whose power can outshine the sun
as if it were night.

And then you will know Truth was there -
placed in front of your eyes
by one with the courage to dare -
who saw through the lies.

You betrayed her before, bear in mind
all the wrong that was wrought,
the acts of a man who was blind
to the truth that he sought.

But that's in the past, when you've learned
how our battles are won,
you'll find that, like all men, you've earned
your place in the Son.