A Razor's Truth
by Michael Doyle

In a time when all eyes 
Should be looking toward the skies
Filled with wonder and majesty
There's a preference for conspiracy

The more is, the better if mired in tragedy
Sometimes, it feels more like a comedy
People are mystified by things they point at
Like two astronauts wearing Santa hats

They are on the razor's edge of truth
Some puzzles are simple, as in our youth
Wanting like the drones to ponder why
It takes a child to ask about resupply

Some questions leave nothing to find
It's as clear as day, even for the blind
We live in an age of allegations and conspiracy 
While very few challenge the hypocrisy

What can be expected in an age of the woke
When the Church of England has become broke
Not daring to edge to the side of the Nativity
Hiding the babe in the manger without levity

A church of believers hiding their belief
Worried that telling their truth brings grief
Altered hymns are conspicuously filled with regret
As if the outside world might mysteriously forget

That the business of the church is not simply business
If there is to be any relevancy, leave the sameness
Alone and distinguish what this truth thing is about
It's okay if the nonbelievers remain mired in their doubt

(c) December 24, 2024   Michael Doyle
All Rights Reserved