like autumn mist blown to the wind.
We scattered our love,
the only gift that has any true value.
We scattered our faith,
pledging tithes and the laying on of hands,
yet doubted that Paradise would be gained.
We scattered our virtue,
thinking our bodies not holy enough to refuse spillage
from some casual acquaintance.
We scattered our ideals and our talents,
our truths and our lies.
We scatter until the years whisper
"Do you not know that you are a mighty vessel?"
And we answer back, "We do now."