I Think

and righteous indignation flares... the essence of defining is prestige. So may I learn to love. So may I cease to predicate my wisdom on cliche, my fatherland, my god. So may my pride swell valiantly when I may see a beauty only, not a fault in every soul who breathes upon the earth. May I be blind, may I be weak and drop the gavel from my hand as everyman walks by... for there is grace in front of me and all the lack of it is mine. My love must flow from deep inside my heart and not my mind, and if I make of it, a product of my intellect I want to feel the heat of shame upon my cheek, the rising scourge of judgement I alone may throw upon my sorry flesh; I need accept no less than fire upon my head. Were I the less humane and lack a god to thunder at me, I should be a bootless cinder wandering within the cold embrace of some divine contemptuous space. In point of fact, I am. ~