We Are Ugly But We

The Candles Burned The Moon Went Down The Polished Hill The Milky Town Transparent, Weightless, Luminous Uncovering The Two Of Us On That Fundamental Ground Where Love's Unwilled, Unleashed, Unbound And Half The Perfect World Is Found.

Children Show Scars Like Medals. Lovers Use Them As Secrets To Reveal. A Scar Is What Happens When The Word Is Made Flesh.

The Psychologists Are Valiantly Trying To Provide Us With Answers, The Religious People Are Trying To Provide Us With Answers. I Think It Properly Falls On The Cultural Workers To Investigate This Predicament With A Little Less Concern For The Marketplace And A Little More Concern For Their Higher Calling.

We All Are Motivated By Deep Impulses And Deep Appetites To Serve, Even Though We May Not Be Able To Locate That Which We Are Hoping To Serve. So This Is Just A Part Of My Nature And I Think Everybody Else's Nature To Offer Oneself At The Critical Moment When The Emergency Becomes Articulate. It's Only Then That We Can Locate That Willingness To Serve.

It's Not A Cry You Can Hear At Night. It's Not Somebody Who Has Seen The Light. It's A Cold And It's A Broken Hallelujah.