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Planes, trains, and automobiles
Take these bodies where they wish.
All cling to hungry reels
But none know how to fish.

They’re heads are filled with fog
For which they blame the sky.
They’re mouths want them to live
But they’re hands wish them to die.

The stars have yet to cease
In their love for brilliant shining.
The moon still hangs high
With that same old silver lining.

The rain still falls with grace
And the sun still sits ablaze.
The splendor’s before our face
But eludes our narrow gaze.

If the celestial balance still lies
In the palm of some great hand,
If change hasn’t met the skies,
Aren’t we the guilty hand?

For Eden is still here
Under tired feet,
Awaiting a glorious welcome
And wide bright eyes to meet.

~ Patrick Shults