It might be time, I’ve been thinking, to bury the hatchet.

I don’t know that I’ve ever used that colloquialism before in my lifetime, but now is as good a time as any, I suppose. And now is better than tomorrow, because I’d like to wake up tomorrow and know in my bones that it’s nothing less than a brand new day. See, cause these weapons aren’t of any real use anyways. Forgiveness leads to freedom, not to rightness. Not even to righteousness and I just need freedom for the sake of you and for me so these little weapons I hold tight in my fist must be loosened and gone. I never really needed to be right anyway.

And I’m realizing just how much I love to laugh at your jokes. I’m realizing I love to laugh; and to smile is one of the world’s most beautiful pleasures. So I scratch up the dirt until it softens deep between my flesh and fingernails. Let a smile curl up through my skin and in through these eyes cause its time.

Freedom sings loud and gentle and sweet. And its time my friend to bring all these weapons and lay them flat in the dirt. Lay them flat on their back without a word left to say, lay them down; let them go ahead and die. Bury them deep and down into the peace that keeps whispering to me; its time now for a brand new day. These sorts of weapons were of no use anyway.