Lord, have mercy! Hands like palms have risen.
The lowest has ascended to the highest,
Riding in on a humble horse again,
Falling down, lifting up the catalyst.
Welcomed by a celebratory shout,
Embraced with burdened, hospitable arms,
Harnessed hope again, removing the doubt,
Deafened, selective hearing the alarms.
Stumbling blocks, the house’s new foundation,
The path not taken, inhabitable,
Ideas manifest, imagination,
Last supper poisoned, indigestible.
The parade route, designed for the dragon,
Highway for man, whose travels are common.
r. ward 