Neighbours’ Hope
As the Southern sun
angles across the North,
monochromatic green gives way,
revealing sweet treasure
in leaves of gold,
and red, and orange,
so Grace does
for our
souls.
Poetry
Nervous around the collar
January 17, 1991
My dismay began with a setting sun,
Clear skies, and a red wafer on the horizon.
Driving westward on I-20, news was proclaimed:
we are dropping bombs from planes.
My task, to keep the boys happy in Fort Worth Hall,
Kept me moving, counting money, and refilling the machines.
Soda Pop. Cheese Crackers. Milky Ways.
Sugary snacks for them all.
Their cheers.
Their yells.
Their hoots and hollers.
Pierced my soul,
Made me nervous around the collar.
With every explosion they proclaimed:
our dark distance from His pain.
The enemy: faceless.
The TV: another game.
How hearts so quickly act as if
there’s no cross to bear.
The war machine…
does not care.
After Noon Prayers
Most days my sight
avoids the intersection
of creation and sorrow.
Others are standing there.
I see them; they are caught mid-step
by the weight of loss.
Grieving in Mogadishu;
running as Rohingya;
neighbours on the other side of my heart.
Oh, that I could run.
Together we could kneel
before One who knows the hours.
We would cry
for mercy.