she put her bed in bags of three the color white as snow
went higher than the mind can go and shackled up her soul
and there I was interpreting each mumble in her mouth
believing there was Grace enough to pull her person out
say who am I to reason with another human mind?
when every single second has already been defined
but what if Time has left us all a single open door?
where Mercy is a season reigning always, evermore
there’s more than just a difference every one of us can make
when need becomes the center and the reason we’re awake

The Root of every story is the one I hope to hear
the one that has been buried ‘neath a world without an ear
[‘cause every noise is nothing but a clinical decay
and everyone’s on something while believing they’re okay]
the Words toward which I gravitate are not some passersby
I wait for them like Water pouring down from rainy skies
and every time I hear them, You I glorify again
The Source of every root I have, the Miracle Himself

my skin’s becoming nothing and my body’s falling off
I’m something I have never been, much more than what I was
I’m reaching higher altitudes and talking to the stars
and every single one of them has asked me where You are
I summoned all the strength I had - in Spirit and in Truth
and told them of the depths to which I’ve come to know of You
You’re nothing like the others, You can’t even be compared
You’re every Hallelujah that I didn’t know was there
If anybody calls me to be anywhere but here
I’ll walk away in silence and completely  disappear