[Editor’s Note: I’m resending this since the first post went out without the audio. Sorry!]
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Rendition
God, why are you hiding?
Why are you far away?
I look around myself
And not a trace of you remains.
The wicked run down the poor
Like wild things. They know only victory.
They strut and preen, and nothing checks them.
They give God not a passing thought.
Their mouths only know to curse
And swallow down. Their fingers
Only take and take and take.
The ruin that might save them
On occasion calls,
But they bat it away, bold as they can.
They cast about for little kills
And strike from hiding like
Feral mousers playing lions,
As though God hadn’t eyes to see,
Or a heart that kept the count,
Or a stone table where the smoke rises
From their burning days.
God, who can hold you back?
Do not levee the river of justice,
But let your reckoning run.
Make your ruin rain and
Tumble them in the flood.
Haven’t you seen all this?
Haven't you heard our cries
And watched the ones you swore
To shelter snatched away?
We have no help but you.
We were stalked through
All of yesterday’s years,
Hoping in you.
We’ve seen things
That shouldn’t have happened,
That we don’t dare whisper
Even behind our eyes.
Yet, you are king.
You topple nations at a stroke.
There is not a single
Passing prayer you miss.
How long will we have to wait?
No matter the answer,
Strengthen us, comfort us.
Ease this terror.
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