Restore

Edges of this world must be mended

Creases of these old fabrics smoothed

Smuggled letters rewritten

And torn pieces sown

With old methods and home-made remedies

Nail by nail and thread by thread

Reconstruction of interior before molding of exterior

We ask for change and see little progress

Shout for peace with hands folded and hearts frozen

Look in bewilderment at violence and injustice

And feel small compared to the robots we've constructed 

Technology void of life and sensibility

Keep innovating! We need advancement!

Make it fast-paced-and-easily-managed

Make it durable and not weak

Make it as strong as can be

And let their power speak of our greatness

While our humanity fades in comparison

Our hearts become dim, useless, extra remains of a once-great race

We believe more in what google says than in the echo of our conscious

Find it easier to hide behind a phone than to share a moment exposed

This is our generation

Cold but never worn

Shallow but never alone

We complain about the slow and plain

Seek instant pleasure and forsake lasting rewards

Exchanging the value of performance for pleasing possessions

Not realizing that the rough ground must be polished

The curves flattened and the rocks refined until there’s diamonds

It takes the sweat of an army fighting with no weapons

The courage of children willing to fall

And the voices of many that will accept giving up

Yes, let us surrender it all

Our fancy tools and hold nothing but the hand of another

Let us retrace our steps and notice where it went wrong

It started in our hearts

It ended in our faults

Let us initiate from scratch

Nothing but dust and plants

Open skies and weary backs

Straining under the sun

Working under the rain

We’ll sing our way to victory

And hope our way through pain

Pray for a way

Reject the bad and not the good

If only we could

“It’s a mess again!”, We’ll say

With weeping and shame we’ll try to hide again

The failure that has kept our feet from flying and our minds from dreaming

Wisps of smoke will go up

Until the sky is filled with dark fog and the ground gives no crops

And mourn we will until the great day comes

Heaven will open up and our eyes will adjust to new light

Oh how we waited for thee

How we asked and begged for your kingdom to come

How our efforts failed and our philosophies proved wrong

How we tried and tried to see justice done

All we found was a broken world

A world whose tears none of us could repair

With the simplest of tools or the most complicated machines

We failed

Tried to rebuild in our strength

Without knowing we ourselves were broken vessels carrying drops across the sea

And you were the rising water trying to flow through our parched streams

We are not menders or authors

We were never meant to carry or build or even restore

The edges, corners, pieces, or words

Of our lives or of this world

We were meant to BE carried, build and yes…restored

Only then can we be instruments in the hands of a skilled artisan

Whose plans are greater than our own

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