Wearing a dirty face mask she peeped over the top of the rancid rubble, her dark eyes smudged with sleeplessness and the filth of her poverty, The fear in her eyes searched the landscape filling in the gaps where friends and family had lived and now sought another sojourner in war. —– Like a trembling… Continue reading There is no just war.
Month: April 2021
The Graveyard of Climate Change
The earth shifted and a fitful groan echoed through the desertified landscape, A sheet of plastic wrapped itself languidly around a tortured thorny tree, across the sanded earth small creatures slipped between the drifting dunes and on the horizon rose a cloud, hurrying them to huddle beneath the golden ——- grains. Growing it then blotted… Continue reading The Graveyard of Climate Change
The Art of Democracy by the Autocrats.
They sit in chairs, high in office but low in morals, their tables show the capers of a paper trail that is lit by more than flames of fire, they burn with people’s lives lost to avarice, abuse of power, an alter-ego that professes and stresses while manipulating the minds —— of the electorate, to… Continue reading The Art of Democracy by the Autocrats.
St Peter.
Did you doubt Peter as you gazed at the gory crosses? Did you seek God in the moment of your terror and trial? Did you ask and find as He did that God was absent from the darkness of that pivotal day of death’s destruction? —— Was God with you on the wind whipped lake… Continue reading St Peter.
The Road to Emmaus
We were walking between fields spotted with red anemones, corn growing strong, and across the greened land the trees lifted their faces to the lowering sun and the growing dark. —– The air felt cool on our tight skin, and the sour smell of dust rose up in our footsteps with the grief in our… Continue reading The Road to Emmaus
The Crucifixion
Jesus gasped for a breath, the pain reached everywhere, the burning in is hands and feet, his skin burnt in the strong sun, the flies and ants and birds all preying on his precious blood. —— And I saw people from every nation, every creed, every age, every tribe, and they knelt before him and… Continue reading The Crucifixion
The Gethsemane of the last Supper
Blood, boils, frogs, hail, came the children’s cries, and soft silence as they remembered the first born sons – like me, he thought and will I be recalled? He watched their faces, joined in the swell, but shakily. His last feast with his family of meandering men and wise women before violence and death. —-… Continue reading The Gethsemane of the last Supper