Unadulterated

Running to the city in search of saints, sharing life lessons, speaking in tongues to mute audiences, heads bowed before blood-stained confessionals, hearts calloused by the cruelties of generations, 

making an art form out of missed encounters between strangers who will see no tomorrows, between stubborn dawns and the closing of the days,

whose silences are tone-deaf reveries and lullabies to seeds unsown, turning in their graves, seeking shelter in the embrace of many winters, growing around the flames, in search of pure, and unadulterated, kindness.