War Zone

I turn away from the dead place where
Your Heart once beat strong with
compassion and joy.
You deny the pain and the damage done
by holding in the radioactive tears
a man such as You
does not shed
even as they trace blistered trails
down the inside of Your cheeks,
burning Your very core.

Helplessly those around you watch ~~
Your luminous soul
crumbles, charred and black before us
needing only the rain of
true feeling to restore its shimmer.

We cannot save You - -
our tears do not touch
what is burnt.

So, we chant prayers
to the God you have lost
~ seeking a miracle
~ a healing for You.

Memos from the Universe

The Divine does for each of us
what we cannot
or will not do
for ourselves.

Gently at first
the message
whispered softly to us from afar.

As we turn away -
resisting the pull of
Grace . . .
it grows from a distant hum
to a booming siren
tearing at our ears,
a blazing beacon
burning our eyes,
a sudden heaving
of the very earth on which we stand.

As the air quiets, the sky fades
and the earth calms
we are left to find
the broken shards
and are challenged to rebuild
by the Divine.