Thy Reign
Oh, will man forever be so blind
like the stalled and baggage burdened horse
who gallops blinders on, and always to the whip.
Will the origin bit gnash the gums
raw and pink with memory of conception?
Thy reign, my mane, a breeze blown wave
of many colors born through the gates of G-d.
Remove the blinders, black and worn
which block the shift of life without.
Turn your gaze from the rutted road of anguish.
Run upon the lawn of endless life and be reformed.
Look within for brightest bits of light.
Say yes, I can, I will, I am, for I am kind,
and warm and loving, as are Thee,
and I will live no longer blind, scourging the outside
for that which is Thee..is also here..inside of me.
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