you got Judas feet,

grow up… we are taught to turnaway.it takes most of us the rest ofour lives to find these qualitiesagain…but as a friend reminded me, theywere always there!

by the knives in your hands,by the stink of your breath.by your churches built,over the unmarked gravesof your own children…by the wealth you gather,or that gathers you.by the crumbs on your pillows,and the roar of your success,drowning out the tiny voices,you grind beneath your feet…you have shown me your gods,they look a lot like you…and…

come in today talkingabout going back to amore self-sufficientlifestyle…people paying off theiraccounts, not making purchases.people buying pigs, chickens,goats… going to plantbig gardens.this has been going on forthe last month ot two.people watching the gas situation,the rise of food prices.. skyhigh electric bills…young people moving back inwith their families… oldpeople going back to old ways.we are…

hard not to…when i can feelthe hot breath on my neck.and the shudder of blacknessthat rattles my bones!the knock, the figure in shadow,too familiar to feel safe.the hand as cold as ice,that takes all,leaving nothing behind.but tis not fear i feel,just a tired resignation.and a powerful senseof things left undone,and stars i forgot to name!as…

walking home from work.the plowed field just planted,at the feet of sun and rain.the simple house built by hand,lifetimes written into the walls.the last touch, the last kiss,the moment never forgotten….hearts wrapped in hearts,live and die as one…one set of footprints,one name on the stone.one set of wings,one fire, one clap of thunder.two words spoken,…

i hear the criesof starving children.i feel the bombs,burning up the night.i smell poverty,and i taste injustice.i shudder at prejudice,i write the prayersof the forgotten…and sign their nameson unmarked stones.what have i done…lord, what have i done?with this life,this path, this cross.i feel guilty,and i know their suffering.i cant help but wonder,what i could have…