How do we dream
of fair leaders wise and kind,
strong and gentle, balancing law with grace?
All we've ever seen are human creatures:
ourselves:
weak and petty, stroked wide
with meanness and anger,
only flecked with patience or beauty
as if on accident; love, as if spattered
from another painting somewhere nearby.
How then do we dream of what's never seen?
--Unless there is a Truth
running as a river underneath this crusted world,
whose pure currents we sometimes hear,
filling us with longing--;
November 2016
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