story

how could he create us too wretched to look upon?
did the artist of the world call us to himself, head turned away in disgust,
feeling for us like a woman searching for the light switch in the dark?
then, once we are "in the light,"
he quickly tosses that righteous robe over us
so his eyes can bear to see us?
are his eyes so righteous they're fragile?
must a fearless creator consider being soiled by association?
and then, in an instant --
ta da, you're clean!
ta da, you're in!
ta da, you're beautiful to him!

is it true?
is it false?
that's not even the point anymore.
some will say "it's true.  you told it wrong."
i say, hmmm...no.
i'm a really good listener,
so maybe you did.

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