An Outcast Heart

An Outcast Heart

(“But the things that come out of the mouth come from the heart, and it is those things that make a person unclean.” Matthew 15:18)

Did I hear that you wanted to change the world?
Did I hear that you stew over the ingredients of opposition?
Did I see you making a lie, turning it over, polishing it and
moreover, branding the facts and turning them into
seminal enemies of the state?
Did I see your raucous rage replace the dialogue
of critical thinking? Did I see the way you
nailed your enemies down?

I don’t have the energy to keep up anymore. I don’t have
the reserves to reverse the steady stream of nonsense
accepted as gospel by some of the angriest people I know.
I know because I came from that principality. I know
because once I found my own road (the road I had missed
for decades); once I found my new road they reached for the ropes
and tried to tie me to the courthouse tree.

I don’t have the energy, but my words well up inside me.
I need to sleep, but my thoughts keep possessing me.
I sit outside and wait for one or two who hear the truth
to renew my untitled dream. I’m looking behind me,
looking in front of me,
listening for a sound from the street that will restore
the longing of an outcast heart.

I’m looking through you from down and up,
I know the potions you drink from your deceitful cup.
There is still room for you, still there is time,
to cast aside the poison words, to admit your false rhymes,
and bring it all out into the sun, bring it out for everyone
to see,
the transformation that only quietness can bring.