The Heart of the Garden

In the footprints of my brothers
I found the path to my knees,
to the place that sees the truth of me
and all the others - to the
place that chooses us for its peace.

And now we are a family -
a brotherhood-in-His-arms,
surrounded by the glowing rainbow charms
of a garden -
we find ourselves in the center,
hands joined, drowned out by silence,
bound by our violence,
begging for redemption.

And it. Is. Given.

We are connected by the thread
of a hot, red needle,
woven through the slightest of events,
in a place willing to forget,
even when we can't.

A great hand is laid upon us.
A great tear is falling to us.
A great love is spread over us.
And the great thread is pulled from us.

We are bound by our
common freedom,
and weeping, we
begin to pray.