The Middle One

Walking down the road to Damascus, I call my home I distract myself with skin and bone when the spirit is alone You have bought me with a currency that exchanges for the death of me And I would ever readily go blind again so I can see The light that shines from your body is not at all too bright for me But not so dull that I sit in the dark My sins have come to reconcile, my darkness lays within a pile You burn it all again with holy water You change my name to Abraham, the syllables are symbols That I may never own this land, but I still have a home And love and joy aren’t far away and though their arrows wounded me A fall might make me land softly into a bed of grace Where I return back to the piles of dirt that I came from before it hurt And wonder how my rib could make her walk But you have led me through the sea and closed it on my enemies Yet somehow I can’t find the words to talk And as I walk, I will see that I was never wandering My steps will fall in line with something bigger than me As I grow taller, I grow weaker The rain will beat my pedals down until I’m stronger