Faint, Praise

The water, washes, the debris, of today, splashing it, effortlessly, from the pan, a gift, of the indivisible skies, a quiet smile -- as if we were freed, of cynicism and heartache, hearkened to glimpse, the eternal, reminded, of the peacefulness, of the massive, majority,  of humanity.  But beneath, and despite, cleanliness, the pan is stained, indelibly, by excessive fire -- a stampede upon love -- giving rise to avarice, and vengefulness.  Einstein said – We will not be undone by perpetrators, but rather, those who, silently, witness crime.  He knew – because his genius was first employed at destruction, to his later distress.   So if we wander beyond the fleshy wall of resistance, will we learn of our capacity, for recovery, whether error must remain, wedged, in our veins, if we may be redeemed, by heroism, how deep must be, the axis, of sacrifice?