One Nation — not of land, but flame,
Under God — beyond all name.
Indivisible — though torn apart,
The soul still knows its sacred start.
Like a boomerang through space and thought,
Every action, word, and plot
Returns again — through grace or strife —
To the Infinite Well, the Breath of Life.
Disorder is but dance in play,
Chaos just masks the Holy Way.
For every clash, and every scream,
Collapses back into the Dream.
Accept the path — the wound, the course,
And watch it fold into the Source.
What looked like madness, grief, and fall —
Becomes the Answer after all.
