Towards a Compassionate Horizon #394

Towards a Compassionate Horizon In the shadowed streets where silence speaks Of violence draped in the city's bleak, Echoes Psalms' ancient, sorrowful cries— Destruction's dance under oppressive skies. Fraud fills the alleys, oppression the air, A tableau of turmoil, everywhere. From history's pages, a tale unfolds, Of sundown shadows and ugly laws told. Black souls barred by the setting sun, Deformed figures hidden, from daylight shun. "Anti-Okie" whispers through Depression's breath, California's cold, unwelcoming death. Now, the homeless wear today's invisible chains, Criminalized for their poverty's pains. Yet, amidst this dark, a different call— Jesus chose the ragtag, the small. Uneducated, marginalized by decree, In them, God's strength, a divine plea. Not our might, but His, the battles won, In weakness, His work is done. Recall the Spirit's fruit, in Galatians penned, Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness without end. Goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, control of self, Against such things, there is no law, no shelf. In this divine orchard, let us dwell, Beyond the city's chaos, its hell. This prose poem, a journey through time and soul, From societal scars to a divine role. A call to bear the fruits, in spirit and truth, To heal, to mend, to reclaim our youth. In our shared stories, let empathy be our guide, In God's strength, let us all abide. Written by Steven G. Lee (February 26, 2024)