I'm rushed
To the point of blurring
Lines crossed over, converged
I will emerge enduring

Harder to focus
Just trusting the craft
Blind leading the mind's eye
Off future's beaten path

Wayward straying
Or so this all seems
This way is my own
Curves carved out in my dreams.

"You can’t live here with a holy book that is above or beyond our democracy. Your holy book will be the object of criticism" "It will be the object of interpretation, and sometimes of ridicule. And if you can't accept that, you can't live here."