To love does not require a book of rules,
nor murder on a cross to fathom grace.
In actuality, a thousand schools
of thought address this mystery and trace
the steps required to know one's self as seed.
With roots still fixed in rich and holy ground,
this flower blooms bright to glorify it's breed
with hues that will, all sons of light astound.
The men whose only tack is 'tooth for tooth'
pillage from thrones and pulpits, killing hope
that humankind will ever know real truth
beyond the stooge's gloom through which they grope.
To trust or not religion's parachute,
the import of this life is absolute.