I am a sprocket a cog in the wheel. I squeak occasionally and must be oiled and tightened up. If the machine is to run I must do my part. If one cog fails then the machine will come to a halt. So onward I turn, grinding the other gears. When we mesh we do extraordinary work, but when we miss a turn nothing will go right.

I speak my mind but no one listens. I scream but no one pays attention. So I stop talking and start doing. I find one problem then I solve it. Then I move on to the next. One person at at a time, one problem at a time. I make it my own affair to help others instead of myself. Little by little, my life begins to change. I see the world begin to close in around me. When I was screaming no one would listen, but now that I am quiet and doing something about it, my words of action seem to speak louder than I ever could.

I stomp my bare feet upon the  shards of a mirror that was broken a few moments ago. I run the burning cold pieces through my skin as they mix with the warm blood oozing from my wounds. I dance as pain resonates through each nerve. I seek a truth that I cannot find in sanity. I looked at that dam mirror a thousand times and not once did I like what I saw. So I shattered it with my fist and released my power. I now stand in a Crimson and Silver pool as light shimmers beneath my feet like flecks of Diamonds. I realize that I am hurting but my soul does not care. While my body screams for reason, my spirit is elated to feel freedom, even if pain is the only way that it can obtain it.

Silver and White are found in the froth of the waves. I melt into the water and let myself be washed away. I disappear and break against a rock on some distant shore. The sand absorbs me and pulls me down into it's dark depths. I look at mysteries through the prism of each smoky grain and slowly the ocean calls me back. Swish goes the froth as it finds  me, back into the cold depths I plunge. I feel a thousand living things run through me. As I become the water and the water becomes me.

Squiggly lines run through my mind. Vertigo cause me to fall into the confusion. I lose my balance as I grapple with the words floating all about me. I try to put the puzzle together but it will not fit. The dimensions confuse me and turn me upside down and sideways. I open my eyes and push the paper down. I pick up the quill and strike the page with ink. The confusion and squiggly lines find order and chaos becomes a story written in poetry.

The world is filled with violence and no one seems to care. People are crying out for salvation but none seems to be there. If each one of who believes would do more to be like our lord, then the world would see a light of hope in every deed  and word. The darkness would be beaten and hope would replace despair. People would have faith again because there was someone there. With each person we could help a life would be changed, then solving one problem at a time, the world would never be the same.

His hands were rugged and pierced on a tree. His feet were worn and nailed that he should bleed. He walked in worn out sandals and slept on the ground. His head was cut with a thorny crown. He wept tears as blood that the cup should pass, but it was not the fathers will. He was faithful until the end. Even death could not hold the one who would not bend. He bares the scars of his sacrifice for all of creation to see. Christ our lord wears them proudly to show that he died for you and me.