I speak a tongue foreign from my fellows.
I value that which has been cast away.
War is waged, while I prepare a bed for sleeping.
O Lord, can I be a mistake? Could you have made me so alien out of carelessness? Are my trials an afterthought?
Sitting side-by-side, you whisper love in my ear. The revolution will need soldiers. The orchard must start with buried seeds.
I am ready, Lord.