Two seemingly conscious people
set their eyes upon the thistle.
One sees the weed, one sees the universe.
Therein lies the great divide.
Someone must speak for the
banished and the shunned, the
wounded and the wary. Someone
must pray the wolves across the
ice bridge to Minong. Someone
must speak for the part of the
world left dying on the side
of the road. Up over the ridge lives a
man who keeps bees. He sells the
honey or gives to friends when
there’s plenty. He goes to
church where he is told of his
condition. The preacher sees a
poor lost sinner. God sees the Christ.