We’ve been redeemed

And reborned,

But only jus’ made, not remade.

Little, subtle things grow grow

Like mold on walls

Or leaven in communion.

Meaning is lost lost

And mayb’found

But only jus’ by seekers,

Like the strait gate,

Sooner found

With eyes that look

And ears that hear

Than mouths that speak scieneticly

peered hyped theses.