Anarchy

As the Psalmist said,
“Why do the heathen rage,
And the peoples imagine a vain thing.”

The incessant ranting and raving,
Continuously roars out its rage and hate.
The chasms between us widen,
In the echo chambers of our separate tribes,
And their self preaching to their choir.

A confusion of tongues;
A Babel of sound.
Pressing down upon us,
Grinding us down.

No middle ground.
No place of meeting.
Left to ourselves in idolatry and pride;
Reaping what we sow.
Sowing to the wind;
Reaping the whirlwind.

We would not have Him rule over us,
So are left to rule ourselves,
In the cosmic anarchy and chaos,
Of the choices we have made;
While shaking our fists into the sky.

© May 2018, all rights reserved

Do Not Disturb So Easily

Do not disturb so easily
The dead who lay beneath the sod;
Unknown to those who live and breathe,
Forgotten by all is the life they trod.

Stroll reverently among the graves;
This no place for light frolic or jest.
Remember soon will come the day,
You will too lay there among the dead.

Do not disturb so easily,
Those, who in rest, await the Day.
While you walk so blithely,
Giving no thought about your way.

Do not disturb so easily
The dead who lay beneath the sod.
The day will come when you too,
Will also go to meet your God.

J. William Newcomer
September 28, 2015 © All rights reserved.

Why Poetry?

"Why do we have to read poetry? Why "II Penseroso"? Read it and you will know why. If you still don't know, read it again. And again. Some of them took the things she said to heart, as she had done once when they were said to her. She was helping them assume their humanity. People have always made poetry, she told them. Trust that it will matter to you..."

~ "Home" by Marilynne Robinson