Chaos, wasn’t it?
Dissonance and double-speak
What we were told
What we watched and felt
What a slanderous soup of fits

Where were we to find our breath?
Pausing, finally, to ask what’s Possible
Starting there, this exhausting journey
Ended here, this beginning bliss
A thing still strange to us

But oh, isn’t forgiveness fine?
Found only by grasping hold of The hand
In Whose image we’re made
I’ve arrived
You’ve arrived