voices.

we have.

different.

some loud.

some soft.

and so we speak.

 

sometimes the words serve as comfort –

sooth a spirit torn apart –

mend a broken heart.

and then –

sometimes,

the words simply cannot contain themselves.

emotion overflows the chamber of their restriction.

and as they gush from a place imagined dry –

parched from a sun invincible,

we feel the sound of their hurt,

we hear them cut the air like thunder – precedes lightening…

 

if only, at that moment of careless abandon, we could – interfere with the release…

this truth –

if we can pass by – on the street – our brother without a coat,

standing in the rain.

if we can ignore – sitting all alone –

our sister giving in to demons,

resistance gone.

 

if we can close our eyes at night –

recite prayers inclined to elevate our us,

and yet recuse ourselves from ownership of the sin of indifference,

what merit is there in our testimony?

 

how can we utter allegiance to this God we’ve never seen,

yet disallow admittance of even the least of these into our sanctuary?

 

voices,

we have.

and yet we choose silence.

all the while –

on bended knee –

assuming blessing we simply have not earned…