Feet Of Clay       Spanish Feet Of Clay I stand before you, less than you had expected, but I never offered to be your hero. This legend of yours, your chosen vessel of truth, delivering a fiery scripture, redeeming your losses, vindicating your dishonor, replacing your uncertainty with glory. I was never the champion of your faith. I was just a seeker of the eternal fragment. I was never your hero. I was simply another partner in life. Look now, don’t deceive yourself, admire ... my feet of clay. I can feel your disappointment ... but truth is beauty, and your illusions are dangerous as well as ugly. The myth of omnipotence is a child's toy easily broken. In the breaking, there is more than pride in the rubble. Lives brushed aside so easily set a perilous precedent. The broom is made of circuit boards and steel. Flesh, is easily replaced. If there is no respect for flesh, then there is no future. Admire ... my feet of clay. They are the weakness of the flesh, and I am one of your kind. We can not stand on pretense. We can not stand on imagined glory. We can not stand on uninformed assumptions. We can not betray our best intelligence to quench our desire. How will we stand on our feet of clay? Understanding weakness is the doorway to strength, the price for your future is justice. You will never benefit from a future paid for by subjugating the human spirit. There is only one stand to make. This stand will determine the value of the human being and define our feet of clay. © 2003 Glen River