Читать книгу Word Simple - Harold J. Recinos - Страница 24

quietly,

I sat in the rising

light of this day absorbed

by news of a new president

who hardly gives a thought

to a future of peace, the people

who sing their children to sleep in

Spanish, the blameless refugees who

recall with prayer the God who lives

in the Middle East, the shouting eyes

of women marching the streets, and

the Black lives rising up to chase away

darkness from every side.

quietly,

I listened to the chirping birds around me

say in their very gentle ways, the great

Maker filled the lot of us with life to rob

the moron in power a lengthy Oval Office

stay, their songs filled me with the most

peculiar joy for in the faces of all those the

bellicose leader scorns with his indecorous

rhetoric of hate the richer light of the One

crowned with thorns staggers from the dark

to make a loving case.

quietly,

I recollected while pushing hope into the

tormented day, the new White House clay

will one day also turn to dust, have to reckon

with the angry breathe of God, and wonder

on the road to Peter’s Gate past the great

hills folding above the life settled from sea

to shining sea what awaits him—I chuckled

at the thought: A Wall!