I have not read such a beautiful, haunting, sublime
poem in a long while.
It's one of those I can't say enough about it poems
that just up and grabs your attention and when
you are done reading it,
you find yourself moved to
a difference place, pondering.
It's weaving alone is worth the read.
The author wrote it in response to the struggles our
world (and this nation I find myself in) are dealing with.
It is called
Crucifixion Night 2016
begins like this....
I had to get up out of the muck and mud
slinging – you can’t sling mud without getting
your own hands dirty – so I climbed up
the only thing high enough to be
looking down on the world, a cross.
I had some help up; some
friends who knew I needed
crucifying nailed me.
From up here I can see a lot
of other crosses, people
put there against their wills,
the people those on the ground
are fighting for but ignoring
as they cry weakly
“My God! My God! why
am I forsaken?”
read the rest here.