Postcards from Paradise

Cards
Your cards
They are on my table

Postcards
From paradise
My reason to go postal

Your art
You're art
Framing my walls

Bare-boned
Gasping heart
I'm still ready to fall

Contradictions

Imperfect
As they are
So am I, even if I don't think so

Judgement
So quick, so sharp
Alas is a blade with two points

Differences
We're all equal
But I won't accept, what I don't want

Expectations
Poisoned reality
The unavoidable, inevitable letdown

Humanity
We are lifted, raised up
Yet burdened in every way by this gift

Hope

We need, yearn and know it

Yet struggle to hear and decipher its languages

Our future

Self-fulfilling prophecies
I guess we may never learn

Finally

Finally when we have nothing
Nothing to hold
Nothing to keep
Nothing more than humanity

We will lie, a twisted heap
Of paradoxes
Contradictions
Held together with broken seams

We will call out our questions
In hope and in vain
With peace and rage
For answers, no, justifications

We will look upwards, for the divine
And inwards for the replies
And outward for the signs
The missing pieces to our perfect design

We will surrender, eventually
After the anguish
After the denial
When stillness comes to claim humanity

We finally listen, quietly
Calm but open
Exposed but unafraid
A wilderness, still but free

Finally, when we have nothing
We will find soul
We will find our voice
A gift of courage back at the beginning