It’s hard to know what to write
And would it matter if I did?
There’s little use in visionaries
With eyes clenched shut
Or for scribes who study not
What they scratch with their quills
If you could read, would you say
This book does not open to you?
If you could not, would you tell me
You do not want to listen?
Yet the time is nigh in this broad darkness
I have seen it plain as day
When those who play at being deaf
Will hear indictment writ in dust
For nothing speaks louder than silent shame
And there’s dirt enough to go ’round
Those who lift stones find their hands
Turned against themselves
Those who play judge and jury slink away
At loss for word and wit
This is the day when the wise understand
When the learned get schooled by the Master