by their works


today I thought I heard
a voice I knew
(but didn’t recognize)
on the road, in the wind
unmistakably real

questions, wondering
trying to remember
(like waking from a dream)
so close, yet a far void
where colors blend and merge

sleeping, I know there is truth
awake I know there are lies
(in between shades of grey)
who can trust the eyes or ears
except to see and hear

what lies in our belief
is grace made out of living
(by their works you shall know)
they are seekers of truth
or money changers at the temple door