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