I Believe

Here they stand without concession Like east and west Or arguments between the north and south And judge's gavel hoisted without a sentence The great rift about the WORD One believes in chaos becoming order On its own The other believes in nothing Becoming the something more beautiful than dust Without a before or an after Faith being the only closure It is not their diametric position That distorts the beauty here But th eviolence that hides the fear Of thesis to meet the antithesis Knowing that there can be no synthesis here No evolution Without the creation of something For nature to bang on like a child A broken toy does not make a rainbow shine But broken light ... O what beauty in it. I am no combatant For me the argument is only an art Of what words we use to paint the heart I believe there is a purpose to all things I cannot see in an accidental moment I believe in a great unseen Calling us back ... after all the time we have been.