Abe: My Sarah morning dove who weaves light
criss-cross my life. I’ve prayed all day and night
that God might guide this nation out of sin.
For surely choosing evil leaders when
you don’t have to is a serious crime
‘gainst God and man and the space where we find
each other, where our hearts may mingle, mix,
and synergize for good or ill. This fix
we’re in is not the work of angry God
or spiteful goblin, but the path we’ve trod.

Sarah: My Abraham, your morning robe is flecked
with bits of breakfast, and your hair’s a mess.
But if you think you’re strong enough to stand
up tall and stride easy, take my little hand
and run away with me before we learn
how bad-intent and eroded-law will turn,
whatever evil stew these power-drunk
soul-forgetting fools will hasty-hands splunk
this land into.

Abe: But honey: money, where will it come from?
Will gold fall like manna through desert sun?

Sarah: How shall we stop the evil unless we go
deep into the mystic? How may we know
which words to speak without God filling us
with Holy Ghost? We need out of the crush
and into space enough to sing for real.
A quiet mystic place to together feel
our way to God and what that Love decrees.
Come away with me, please.

Abe: No earthly path’s without thorns
Prepare we shall, but this very morn
let’s worldly dreams of safe and sound gently scorn.
The mystic’s past all time and space:
Our home’s outside of any earthly place.
Hold my hand, we’ll walk through Holy land
wherever we in this world may from moment to moment stand.