Terrors are to come.
The earth
is poisoned with narrow lives.
I think of you.
What you will
Live through, or perish by, eat
at my heart. What
have I done? I
need better answers than there are
to the pain of coming to see
what was done in blindness,
loving what I cannot save. Nor,
your eyes turning toward me,
can I wish you lives unmade
though the pain of them is on me
Wendell
Barry
__________________________________
Terrors are to come
Terrors are here
In Gaza, children look toward the sky
expecting death to fall like rain
while old white men
plot and plan
and count their cryptocurrency
Immigrants huddle in fear
waiting for the knock on the door
for the masked intruder
who will cast them
nameless and faceless
into perdition
The poor wonder how far
their last paycheck will go
and look at empty shelves
The houseless know
that they will never have a house
let alone a home
and lie in a wet doorway
watching the rich drive by
unseeing
People transformed by lust
seekers of power
insatiable
turn obscene abundance into want
sucking the resources of the earth
into a gaping maw
of greed
the few leaving the many
destitute and hopeless
I have no answers
I have no power
I cannot stop the encroaching darkness
I can only watch
and feel
holding the pain
knowing I cannot
undo what has been done
I want to unsee
I want to feel nothing.
I do not want to know
what fresh horror has been unleashed
by people who, in the name of God
sell hate
and seek to punish and control
I do not want to hear that voice
of unreason
and listen to the jumble of words
and watch people who know better
support and enable
terrorism
but there is no escape
so who do I do?
What can I do?
Pray?
I have been praying
Seek to do good?
It barely dents the evil.
Lament runs deep, woven into my soul
I have been told, Beloved
That you embrace the brokenhearted and
save those who are crushed in spirit
O God of love,
this would be a good time
to feel your presence
before I forget how to love
and how to hope
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