Forsaken into Reality

In an act of love
pocketed in mystery
God has banished us
to open lands of metaphor,
his people forever enamored
in rich identity crisis.

A man on a motorcycle screaming, "I am the bride"
Prisoners whisper though steel, "We are free"
A wife smiles as a sister, snickers as a lover
That child says "I am a sheep"
Some virgins in Zambia are fathers
A CEO blurts "I am a slave"
Four farmers admit, "we are seeds"
A teenager dressed as Dracula,
drank his blood and ate his flesh.
A pitcher for the Yankees boasts, "I am an arm"
Three soccer moms counter, "we are strong legs"
The kings says, "I am a servant"
But he is light
But he is way
But he is friend 
But he is God
Banished to metaphor.


Those bright shadows more 
material than reality