Sunday, December 24, 2006

Jesus Child

The following came to me from a regular reader here. Fits my thoughts today.

How about you?

O, Jesus Child
by Owen Burgess

Birthed in county general
Between gunshot wounded
And the last breath of AIDS,
Medi-Cal recipient
Fully human, fully divine,
O, Jesus child!

Nurtured off Cottonwood Road
Countrified ghetto's three-room shack,
Surrounded by sounds of gang warfare
And crack house despair
Enveloped in real world, real time,
O, Jesus child!

On the road with family,
From camp to labor camp,
Just ahead of Immigration
And a step ahead of the law;
Parents working to the bone
To provide in the instability,
O, Jesus child!

Settling down in that Union
Avenue flophouse – one-room motel room –
Working poor, using WIC
And food stamps to make ends meet,
Owner of all – and nothing,
O, Jesus child!

You knew slander despite divine seed,
Filth and unkeptness with the purest of hearts,
Unmatched wealth below the poverty line,
Groundedness with no place to lay your head.

Take away whatever is needed,
Remove the privilege that stands between us,
Squander every bit of my wealth,
Evaporate the figment of my stability
If I know You not as you were,
And are, and will ever be,
For I must know you,
O, I must know you,
O, Jesus child!

1 comment:

wade said...

hello my name is wade a very dear friend of owens
I just want to thank you for posting this poem