i.

broken, battered, clawing with delight
for righteous retribution and murderous revenge
in the name of peace, in the name of law,
in the name of order and and the name of God!

paining with sin, of Cain's, of Abel's,
of Adam's, of Eve's, for theirs and ours,
wreaked upon us In the name of justice,
being punished for what supposedly happened!

those God loves, he beats,
whips them into shape, the shape of his son;
with each crucifixion, new ones arise,
ushering one to hell and back again.

rough riding along the salvational trail
of waterless gullies and hot chaparrals
where struggles fester and weak ones fail
trying to be god instead of Man:

is this the agony, the struggle to be other
when all one can be in life is human
with a bit of grace and help from God,
invisible but felt beneath a baptismal gown

over which waters flowed amidst protest
while adults snickered, shooting film
as you squirmed for space and the Breath of Life?
is this the agony all must face?

ii

i feel the soundless plea from mouths agape
pressing both sky and barren ground
and someone bleeding their haggard blood,
their scars puffed up with puss and pain.

when, o when will the Soundless be heard?
when will Gilead's balm heal our ears?