Subj : [CHRISTIA] New Poetry, "What the Sliver Sees"
To   : Practical Christian Life
From : Mark
Date : Sun Jun 14 2020 12:57:45

From: lamppoet@CENTURYTEL.NET (Mark)

I want the bottom line to be simplicity.

 

"What the Sliver Sees"

 

("Son of man, the ones living in these ruins in the land of Israel are
saying, 'Abraham was only one man, yet he possessed the land, but we are
many; surely the land has been given to us for a possession.'" Ezekiel
33:24)

 

The moment our numbers reach a peak, our towers loom above the
jet streams that streak across the sky; the moment we've made a million,
counted the membership fuller than a beehive; Pride

 

Is the slight breath that blows our towering egos to totter and sway
the way an elephant on skates loses momentum, and cannot find
gravity's center for the life of him.

 

Hand me my profit, today's bottom line is higher than yesterday.
Hand me my commission, I'm ready to spend it now
and next year the same. Watch the graph point to the sun,
we've added on and jammered on, led interested buyers on
enlightening tours of exactly how to build it better with nothing more

 

Than staying late to close accounts and learn a handbook full of
redefinitions. And, I'm happy to say, the building is still bustling,
the roof is renewed and the money keeps flowing through
the front door into the anxious pockets that own everything they see.

 

But a handful smell the tar that constantly fills the holes,
a sliver see the misdirection that keeps the bodies inside the building 
so those who enter are counted with the exiting and reports are doubled
like lightning.

 

There is a new creation that never aspires to awards and plaudits,
but, in horizontal architectures, builds across the boundaries that
counted some in with money to spend, and some out until near the
end of another business day. A new creation enwrapping every
block on the street, bum on the avenue, executive at the bus stop;
every junk shop, swap meet, back street and front row seat. A
New Creation where everyone's view is the best view in the house.

 

The walls are sand now, fortifications unemployed. The guntowers
and turrets
are belfries and steeples now; the sales charts ripped from the wall
while
new songs older than creation fill the hearts and throats of all
willing to love bridges more than the 
barricades of yesterday.

 

 

Bridged,

mark p.

lamppoet@centurytel.net

 

Mark's Blog

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