We exist
suspended between delay and
that future we are told
is ahead of us. Little advances humanity.
We rush too much, as if it is demanded.
Each of us controls our pace,
or attempts to.

We are here,
bounded by missed connections
and unfortunate
misunderstandings. Nostalgia is not often
favorable. Blind curiosity. We fail to recognize
where we are.
We seek faith.

We do have
the communal capacity, but resist
assistance or the
temptation. Recycling our sins, striving to
keep up with the morally reprehensible,
we try to find
our own Jesus.

© 2018 j.g. lewis

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