Blind Mountain

The proverbial mustard seed

did not transform

the hatred of hearts

into anointed souls

though it could have

given half the chance

The mountain still stands

unmoved, impossible

for what they profess as love

has been a curse

a civil war between neighbors

rather than the sole commandment

They speak hatred

and preach lies

while they call themselves righteous

they stand without compassion

they stand in judgment

a cherry picked church for the taking

The blind mountain ignores

our frail human failures

impassive and timeless and solid

while mustard seeds are carried off

like dandelion fluff

a faith like the changing winds. – Caroline A. Slee