The Groaning of the World

Black banners brandish

before the blood they rejoice in spilling.

Yet those that wave the wavering

threads of thrashing hate

stand opposed to the stalwart

stewards of decency. Many we are, raising

a redemptive message paid in red

rivers that flowed furiously

afar, through all nations and all peoples

that had the ears and hearts left open

to redirect their ravenous

tongues. Tell it upon the mountain,

where the mourning

groan their malcontent

feelings of ferocious

fury, for the flock

flounders with their wrath.

How can love

overcome such darkness?

The hands of the hailed are nailed

to the cross. Cross

the chasm where the wicked

are waylaid. Be the believer of beautiful

bounties that come

after we witness for the world.

Wonder at the wake

we make when we part

despair with hope.