Broken Butterflies

You wear your anger well and stand

For all the world to see

A heavy cloak and one gloved hand

And no humility

You stand inside the garden

And feast on black cherries

And swallow the manna from Heaven

And spit out the seeds

You spread your anger on sharp-edged knives

Cut my skin and make it bleed

Like Pilate in his self righteousness

You're a traitor and a thief

And choking on your unplanned words

Coughing up your lies

Tumbling from your mouth

A flurry of broken butterflies

Broken butterflies

They rest their wings snapped in two

On their way to certain death

Their colors gold an' blue

But the blood that flows I cannot hide

The blood that covers me

Nourishes the butterflies

And they are healed and are set free

I wish you had what Ruth possessed

But then I don't expect that of you

Grace and honor and faithfulness

And the love that you refuse

Will you ever learn to just forgive?

Will you open your beautiful eyes?

And bleed the way Christ did

And fix the broken butterflies