IN WHOSE NAME?

© 2020 Melissa Jackson Brister All Rights Reserved
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Down from the mountain, in white, in light,
against the grim backdrop of hungry reality.
For each, fate preordained, the hapless soul cast to destiny.
The Brahma sustains, famine endures
Karmic repetition yields no solution.

Holy travesty, the lamb is slain.
Minds bound by religious ferocity. Tenets misread.
In whose name shall you glorify this madness?
Would you but listen, could you not hear Krishna weeping?

Where once the emerald green did be, now lies crimson
lush land turned barren, bombs and shattered bone.
Ancient ties break gentle souls,
English shadow, Irish plight.

Holy travesty, the lamb is slain.
Minds bound by religious ferocity. Tenets misread.
In whose name shall you glorify this madness?
Would you but listen, could you not hear Christ weeping?

In the sacred lands, the most unholy of deeds
and in the mind of God's children, murder.
Across the small, scarred planet, man against man
woman and man against each, and nation against nation.

One people, analogous heartbeats,
gazing outward to identical stars
severed by color, creed, and deed.

And distant, the terrible, lonely cry of God.

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