Love, Like Water, Always Finds a Way

Love, Like Water, Always Finds a Way


If Jesus Walked the Earth Today

If the man we know as Jesus
Walked upon the earth today,
We’d put him in a strait jacket
And lock his ass away.
We’d label him a psycho;
Call his followers a cult;
All the pious religious leaders
Would consider him a dolt.

We’d denounce him with Bible passages;
Call him blasphemous, at best;
We wouldn’t treat him like we treat ourselves,
No, we would fail that test.
He’d probably be homeless;
We would want him to cut his hair;
If we saw him in our neighborhood,
We would want him out of there.

We would not listen to his sermons,
Although they would be more tailored to our times,
We would want him put inside a jail
Being charged him with made up crimes.
We wouldn’t heed his advice;
Wouldn’t believe his claim to be God’s son;
Every good that he tried to do
We would see it gets undone.

No, if Jesus walked the earth today,
No followers would he get;
No one would possibly believe the stories he told;
His life, we quickly would forget.
No, a Jesus of today
Would not have a snowball’s chance
Because our belief in a Jesus from 2,000 years ago
Wouldn’t allow that circumstance.

Seeds of Hatred

In the darkest corner of his soul
In that place in his heart where lies a hole
In the depth of his mind where evil thoughts take hold
The seed of hatred was sown

Fertilized with prejudicial thoughts
Watered with the bigotry that he was taught
To achieve an end that many others have sought
That seed of hatred has grown

Nine angels, he anointed to heaven that day
Too soon for them to fly away
But the evil that festers on earth will stay
As that seed, to others, has flown

Intolerance is not a natural trait
Children must be taught to hate
And, while all we do is wage a debate
More seeds of hatred are sown

Peeling Her Onion

Peeling her onion was making her start to cry,
But she knew it was something she must do;
Realizing the outer tunic was nothing but a lie
Meant she had to peel herself away from you.

She removed insecurities with each scale leaf that she peeled,
Getting closer to her real, inner core.
Not always happy with the next layer she revealed,
Cleansing tears kept continuing to pour.

When, finally, she reached the immature flower deep inside,
She knew she could grow strong once again.
Tears of anxiety and self-loathing had been cried;
A more confident life could now begin.

Every now and then, each of us, our onion we should peel
And remove those layers that make us cry.
Don’t let the outer skin mask what we really feel;
Don’t let the coming tears make us afraid to try.