Who leaps into the center of Chaos?
Consider powerful men wearing fine suits,
whose shoulders are lined with stars,
whose words click from their keyboards
or spit across the airwaves
into the wild confusion of debate.
Consider those who,
smile the sad smile of duty,
whose expectant brown eyes
will be scorched with fear,
forever cleansed by the many ways one can die in war.
Theirs are the words of contemplation,
the candlelight of being,
the murmuring lips of prayer,
that light feared by all.
They enter that light,
their suits and uniforms
unstained by blood or debris—
can only avert their eyes
and clear their throats
and keep talking,
assuring us that all is well.
But who dives into the eye of God?