Blood & Water

I do not love this world as if it were mine to keep

But conversely as an entrusted, neglected treasure

Damages seem insurmountable, 

Too many darkened corners with falsely fat children

Homes of clay and rock and trash clutter the scenery

Destroyed by injustice, preconceptions, and neighbor’s bullets

Infected waters or dehydration, equally agonizing burials

So great is the suffering, and so too the hope

Wounds and bruises reflect a kingdom not yet come

Smiles parade that same kingdom as one among us.

I’d rather live at spear’s end to do more than talk of and around,

Than allow idleness to squander hope for the desolate

There is so much reason to hope and to be a dealer in such.

Where are the faithful fathers?

Where are the cleaner waters?

Oh, my heavy and broken world.

Let me be an agent of mercy.