It's Sunday morning and I sit in solitude
Drinking this delicious black nectar grown in various altitudes
Consuming digital print concerning the world's plight
My heart bleeds and aches at our lack of foresight
Tumbling and tumbling down a steep hill
With no end in sight as we continue to fill
Our bellies and our coffers until we are bursting at the seams
More, more, more our greed ravenously screams
In moments like this, my hope begins to wane
Privy I am to this moment of crisis, this monumental pain
And it is self-inflicted which boggles my mind
Far we have fallen from Spirit's grace only to que in line
Waiting for the latest and greatest distraction spoon fed with honey
And we gobble it down happily for it is a surface-felt journey
But it is also in moments like this that Spirit begins to speak
A little whisper in my ear that sparks the fire that I seek
Don't give up and don't give in
For that is the reason this world struggles still, my kin
We are all connected and what is felt by one is felt by all
No matter the exchange or whether it is large or small
Despair is but a small pond belying the void underneath its calm surface
Take heed in chucking your stones for that beast will devour without purpose
Be the light that you wish to see
Be the strength for those in need
Inspire hope and show kindness to all
It is infectious and truly a ball
Take up this mantle and be a pillar for those in need of foundation
And you will find my unwavering support and adoration
It's Sunday morning and I sit in solitude
My heart is full of love and gratitude
As I sit here drinking this delicious black nectar
I have hope for this world for I am not a spectator...
