Friday, June 29, 2018

Woe Unto Us: A Lament


Children magical and joyful
Reflections of their parents’ deepest desires
Their own little images reflecting
The glory of the maker of heaven and earth.

Across the globe, children created in the images of their parents
And the Lord of heaven and earth
Objects of war and victims of greed and
Broken humanity and its terror toward one another.

Magic in the garden one day and
Images of gasps for breath the next.
Whose children are they and to whom do they belong
If not to their parents and their country and the world
Then to whom?

In this world you’ll have trouble but
Be encouraged for I have overcome the world
Are the words of the risen Lord.
The world is troubled and we are troubled
And our troubles boil over and trouble others who are troubled.
So we drop another bomb on the ones responsible
But they knew it was coming.
The world is all inflamed even more so than before.
Who is to blame and who is to be the defender of the
Fatherless and the children and the widows.

Children. Dead children. Pictures horrify and offend.
Casualties of war. Leaders poisoning their own.
Children left on the shores of our country unable
To cross over into peace and opportunity.
Who cares for those kids and who will care for the deceased and who
Will care for their parents.

And when will wars end and who will end them
And how many soldiers will have to die and how
Many families will suffer losses unspeakable.

When will bombs create peace.
When will explosions bring about harmony.
When will war stop war.
When will death stop death.

The irony is unspeakable.
The contradictions have no words.
The joys for those parents and grandparents,
And the unspeakable grief for those.

Where is the justice and righteousness its kin?
Where is anguish of those children and our own?
Those children matter so let’s start a war.
These children matter, and who will fight for them?

I am a father. I am a grandfather.
I have a family. My sons have families.
Someday my sons’ children will have families.
What of them. Do their lives matter.
Whose lives matter and whose lives don’t.
Who gets to decide.
Who will send the next bomb?
Who will unleash the next gas bomb.
Whose children and grandchildren will suffocate.
Whose children and grandchildren will thrive.
Who gets to decide?

Woe unto us who care not for the children.


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