We cannot imagine
How tired one must be
After the task of saving souls.
The heart breaks and begins to wonder,
“What is the purpose.”
What is the purpose?
Why must I go?
Why must I work?
Why must I speak?
All becomes meaningless.
The glimmer of hope
At the end of the tunnel Is no longer visible;
It is no longer hope.
Now I am the one who must be saved
From heaven,
From hell,
From myself,
From God.
I must be saved from those
Who work to save my soul.
None can save it.
It is not work.
To laugh, to breathe, to jump.
To cry, to hum, to rest.
To love.
To know in all this wicked world
An ounce of good can be found
If I am willing to create it.
We know salvation when we see it.

Photo: Baba Steve/Flickr