Whispers of the Divide #874

Whispers of the Divide (Echoes Across the Chasm) In silent spaces where words fall like leaves, Lies the chasm vast of misunderstandings, Where shadows cast by unspoken truths Stretch endlessly, binding us apart. You cloak your unknowing with woven lies, Like healers devoid of cures, your tales Entwine divinity, challenging the heavens— Do they crumble at His gaze? As futile as ash, As brittle as clay? From his despair, Job’s voice cries through the storm, Accusations flying, daring to be heard. On the edge he stands, his spirit bared, Hope dissolving, his plea to God—bold, unshielded. And there, too, Jesus hung, his cry splitting the sky: "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" This lament echoes, a timeless reminder of our fear— To be left alone when we need presence most. In these cries, a tapestry of frailty and silence unfolds, Reflecting our collective soul. Let us mend these breaches not with lies, But with threads of understanding, Weaving through our days the fabric of empathy. Let us bridge this gap, not stand apart in shadow, But side by side, bathed in shared light. Written by Steven G. Lee (April 12, 2024)