If I could sew it up, I would.
I’d weave through each and every one of us
—Through our hurt, lies, and pain;
Selfishness, sin, and suffering—
And fasten it brand new.

I’d stitch each rip
Together
To resemble the us of old
—But you can’t stitch stones.

So we have but one hope:
After the storm,
We find ourselves settled
Together,
Creating a sight for all to see.
A happy sight...
Just like it used to be.