Sunday, March 27, 2016

A World of Graves

Death puts on all kinds of clothes

For a hungry child, an empty stomach, a tomb
A no-job father finds Death in idle hopelessness
A mother fears Death's darkness, blackened in by her baby's tears
The homeless veteran cannot escape his plot defined by fear and hard, hard memory
Dying folk face Death in the eye, trying to stare it down, but no
Rejected, marginalized people move in and out of Death's shadows
Hated immigrants feel a Death separating them from home, while serving their captors right well
A poor beggar, standing at a busy urban intersection, wrestles Death a car at a time
The lonely know Death's solitude, resigned
Prisoners endure a life behind Death's locked door
The naked experience Death as humiliating uncovering
All sorts of blind people live in a darkness no one understands but Death
Abused, violated women live in a hellish sector of Death
Oppressed people know Death's weight
Homeless strugglers know Death in the great ourdoors
Crippled, broken bodies linger around souls chasing Death away
The world can be understood as a tomb
Death's home

What we need is a way out, through, beyond, up--liberation
The Liberator overcomes
The Warrior drives out fear
The Rescuer kills death
Leaving only an
Empty Tomb!

Our faith, in a world of graves

1 comment:

Jeremy Gregg said...

Thank you for sharing, Larry. I love reading your poetry.