We Trust

Born into the ticking clock of innocence
a hurrying forth of second hands
to match the inhale and exhale of lung
we sing truth against the fragile voice of newness
and taste of the refreshing sound of belief
Trust
it is the automatic gift life births us with
against the cold relentless winds of the skies
of experience
of living
we lose sight of this gift like we age
the only circumstance in which increasing numbers
is representative of loss
a slippery lyric of experience snatching away
our inherent decision to bend
a revelation sung to the instrumentals
of life
not as gentle
not as soft
not as giving as naiveté in childhood
we learn not the automatic taste
of confidence
but the wisdom of serpents
to discern the shady tongues
the coated lips of deceit
against the cold relentless winds of life
of experience
that teaches
that we cannot trust every breathing entity
for these winds are not so trustworthy any longer
for they have grown old
and have known lies
these lungs do not sing the song of genuine
for that we trust now like serpents
and wrap ourselves
inside the delicateness of the dove