A slow-written song:

When I was young
I stumbled out upon a chasm deep and wide.
I didn’t know where it came from,
Didn’t know why.

When I was young
I could feel that I would have to pick a side.
I chose then, as I choose now,
Those who are kind.

When I was young,
My father spoke of God like a grand old love.
And when he stood in his pulpit
It felt like he was holding us.

So that was my home
Until it wasn’t
Until I saw so many kind hearts drained
In a tired charade.

When I was young
I heard stories of a healer who raged
At religion, tool of empire,
Separation game.

When I was young
We had to use this healer’s own name
To vie for power in a church
He never made.

When I was young
We fought amongst each other every day,
Trying to correct the course
Our ancestors made.

That was my home
Until it wasn’t
Until I saw so many kind hearts drained
In a tired charade.

When I was young,
Well now I find it hard to say just where I’m from.
I’m from that healer, I’m from stealing,
I’m from shame.

I am from
Destructive spirits trying to be the only one.
And I’m from searching for a
Grand old love.

I am from
The tempting beating of revolution’s drum
That can’t seem yet to stop its grasp
At domination.

I’m from that home
Until it wasn’t
Where I saw so many kind hearts drained
In a tired charade.

When I was young
I loved to look back in time
And watch for the flow of
Wisdom’s rhyme.

That’s where I found
Just how much had truly been destroyed.
That the church had built that chasm
Deep and wide.

I walked away.
Just as so many other times I’d tried.
But I remembered to bring my soul with me
This time.

I am, I am,
Across the eons,
And love has been my flesh and bones.
I am at home.