After Midnight

How long until you rise again?
Because the lame will learn to walk
and the slaves will be set free,
but the more I know about the things I don't,
the more I see that something grand
is meant to be. And we don't know
what we can't hear and are too blind
to see with these tired eyes.
But these sleepy eyes are all we have
to prove that we still believe
and still wait up, watching,
listening, and breathing.

And death descends upon these wistful houses,
so put your sword away,
the sword you brought with you,
the sword you want with you,
because this cup overflows
as sweat drips to the ground like blood,
and put your sword away,
because death has passed over you;
it is mine.
I am life.

How We Know We are Blessed

Despite all of it,
Despite what we deserve,
Despite this flesh,
We still breathe in
And breathe out.

Blood still flows hot and cold
Through my veins.
Each morning I still rise
From my rest.
Daily I yet receive
From the bread of life,
And I am blessed
When I don't have to ask,
What is this?

Each hour I may wait impatiently,
But penitence tempers me.
Each day I might find no hope,
But the infinite bursts through me.

I have seen nothing,
I have known nothing,
I have held nothing,
That can compare to this beauty.

And I know.
And I know
We are cared for,
No matter how long the night.