Water piped in from Mono Reservoir Lush grass, high-tech, large-located houses;
But down below, poor refugees at that Wall
Live in patched together plastic tents,
Preyed upon by ruthless cartel killers,
Near their shack of tar ’n’ wood Jesus church
Food on their small acre of stony ground,
Open kind actions, smiles, warm with zest and care;
Their hearts-wide, simple lives touch others here.
Not Evangelicals! those proud claimers
Lost from love’s generous kind country.
In the LIGHT,
Dan Wilcox
4 comments:
Very evocative
Thank you, Daniel
"Love’s generous kind country" is great... & a great aspiration!!
Thanks for stopping by. Poem is based upon tragic/transcendent experience I had here in California where nearly everyone we know is caught up in themselves, not wanting to help those in need. One evening I saw a slideshow of a poor couple living in impoverished Nicaragua, standing in front of their tar-n-wood shack of a little church, their faces filled with warm smiles, love for Jesus and everyone. And this wondrous communion immersed me, so aware that I and that couple were close in a way that I wasn't at all with Americans around me.
The U.S. has a lot of weirdness going around... I really don't know what to make of it.
Poems like yours help us not to lose hope! -- There's a world that's not "location or creed, but hearts-full"... just as real as our geo-location. Thanks so much!
Elizabeth
Tragically and absurdly, the last 10 years, especially, Americans, though capable of amazing achievements and community, instead have chosen almost cultish intolerance, false claims about major events, and political and religious/non-religious extremism.
I don't understand how this drop off the cliff even happened. It appears to be at core worse than the debacles of the late 60's.
How do we smart highly educated humans detour into age-old delusions and unjust behaviors so quickly and suddenly?
Thanks for visiting, again:-)
Dan
Post a Comment