Immersed in silent prayer we ache for peace.
How long can we absorb hate darts, guilt threats?
We smell death everywhere but can’t face it,
keep trying to catch a whiff of Pure Love.
Why does it always have to be tough love?
Fatigued with combat, sick of red tape snarls
we sit on fences, squashing impulses,
wearing earplugs, avoiding arguments.
But we’re caught in cross-talk. Peace is postponed
indefinitely. Life seems a quick puff,
death ever the tempter, money worthless.
Pinned to fear walls in anger’s din, we wait
for what? The Angel of Life? You, Jesus?
You were a refugee child in Egypt:
You understand; please help us, show us how
we can open doors and offer Shalom.