wandering through drought and salt
finding some shade and resolve
wondering what it’s called
staring at open palms
it’s not a double tree
it’s a stand with no banner
what they couldn’t see
a test with no answers
fruit from a field unsown
neighbors have left from cold
a tree that bore only stones
squeeze them till we find gold
inspire the attendance
lead them with conviction
the toil seems endless
context breeds recognition
too tight of a grasp
we find blood of the rock
too light of a tap
is an unsculptured block
stand on two feet
in the discourse we listen
in the moment of heat
we strike with precision
a future unseen
with each seed of hope
we are a state in between
the blood and the stone
Leadership, Design, Writing 