Stranger

Doing my best to quest my destiny
Without asking too many questions of
A force which I could never understand
I am willing to bear the loneliness
Of being the way I am since I see
That the consequence of my onlyness
As a stranger lost in a stranger land
As one unable to assimilate
As such an unwitting contrarian
Such that I stick out like a sore thumb here
As a quite-possibly-dangerous-man
Is that while I flounder with the hand fate
Has dealt me here where the jokers run wild
I run across other strangers to love
Who found me because I was a lost child

I will always be lost and always found
Know who my friends are and where they are too
Know strangers who like to see me around
No strangers to each other (me and you)

How ironic becoming iconic

Especially as an iconoclast
Wearing a tall pointed hat on my head
In perfectly balanced absurdity
Acceptance seems a general tonic
And icons (as we know) are made to last
These portals of improbability
Where opposites can be reconciled once
They are given the opportunity
Where one can be a wizard and a dunce
Who knows to know nothing is everything
That winter releases the death of fall
Wiping the slate for a new question in
The time when planted questions sprout in spring
I never get any answers at all
But I enjoy it when questions begin

If anyone asks I was just asking

Unanswered questions being ironic
Of something I could never understand
A once-a-dunce becoming iconic
As a stranger lost in a stranger land

+Steven Curtis Lance



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