a dazzling chaos
confusion raised to worship
and fallen walls reveal
sunken sands beneath it all... faulted foundations;
a lost and troubled nation, wandered
as if in a stumbled darkness all the while
full in the sun and paradise.
Now Shepherd... find your staff
there, along the tortured edges
among the sharper stones
where peril turns each step
and the asp and scorpion wait.
Will you have courage
to grasp the stave the heavens gave
to guardians of the flock...
fear is the poor watchman
greed turns its eyes
and selfish ways spin into the ground.
When all merely "seems"
it is the wise who ask "what is ?
boldly claim 'what might be..."
We do not need to guard the past,
there was wisdom along the wayward path
and strength to find
the signs of coming day
for dawn is near and never
and night passes and stays
we choose, it is the gift...
we choose when we will see...the light.
Honorable mention
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