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IT is...

 

 

It won't be washed away by floods,
nor blown away by the Ides of March-
It'll never be left in the shadows of time-
disintegrated by fire, frayed or scorched

We can't wish it away, sleep until it goes away,
hide from it beneath our beds-
It's chameleon by choice, stone and wood-
it's entered our lives, through our heads

It's been written, painted, given rhythm in song,
preached, yelled, whispered and silenced-
It's been juggled, tossed, tormented and teased,
it's been met with embrace, and slain in violence

It's been tried, convicted, appealed and overturned,
upturned, buried, dug up and justified-
Spoke of in privacy, spoke of in crowds-
Cherished, loved, shied away from and denied

We can claim it for our own, or give it away,
we can gift it or keep it-
We can reach for it, we can touch it-
We can long for it, or to it we can commit

It can be viewed, interviewed, construed,
it can lift us high, or pound us to our knees-
It can make us beg, plead or praise-
it can cause war, or it can award us peace

It can give us pleasure, or take it away,
but it can't be stolen, robbed nor raped-
Most would never buy it, some might try-
from it, there's really no escape

What is...IT?
 

IT is...Belief and Believing
the Truth is Within Ourselves

 

 

By Lisa Hilbers

12/02/2004

BY PERMISSION

 

 

 

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