The stroke of her brush,
Precise.
The glide of her pencil,
Exact.
The words of her mouth,
Select.
She is so,
So careful.
Why is she so careful?
Sweep. Sweep. Sweep.
Hide in the darkness, my dear.
In the shadows, the children play follow-the-leader.
We hope that beneath the chaos, things make sense.
We pray that the heart of chaos is calm.
Long ago, a god-man came down to the grandfather and told him that ignorance was evil.
The grandfather believed him.
The grandfather sinned so that he would know, and when he knew, he forgot.
Thus we say that truth is not discovered, but remembered.
In the children, the shadows play follow-the-leader.