I fear to look at the little ones who’ll die,
I fear to look on their faces blue with cold,
I fear to look on the little ones who are sick,
I fear to look at the faces of those who had
the mightiness to stop little ones suffering so
———–
Five course dinners while others starve?
Warmth enough for shirt sleeve working?
No fear of the coming cold?
Private health care? No waiting list for them.
The queuing sick dying from want of a nurse.
———
Where is the hope if we rely on humans?
Where in them are the thoughts of grace?
Where in them a heart to overturn poverty?
Their eyes are blinded by the lust of power
and deaf ears stopped by voices of greed.
—–
Christmas comes coldly, costing this year,
still carols play their cheery, bardic magic of
blessings of a God who walked our way of
oppression, betrayal, poverty, aggression.
And then Denies the power of corruption,
——
to show death has no dominion. Fury turns
to murder and buries him like a mustard seed,
amongst their thistles and rocks of cruelty.
Jesus thrusts from the earth like a loving tree
forming a safe haven for a threatened creation.
———–
Why? like those who nailed him to a tree
do we deprive ourselves, turn from goodness
making self destruction a law for our land?
Why can we not look at the face of a child
and cry, ‘Let us believe in them, give the best:
Make Safety, Health and Love our quest.’
