Where do you feel the pressure of exile? |
seemingly abandoned
by God -
the temple
desecrated,
the king and chosen
young
abducted.
Taken -
eating dust for days
then delivered
to foreign streets.
Exiled.
Cut off.
Seeing pagans prosper.
Does anger simmer
at the captors?
at God?
In a pressure cooker,
beliefs are tested,
burnt down to essences.
What remains?
How does one walk through mud
and keep one's soles clean?
When my instinct is to
blend in,
how can I keep
from being pulled down?
Do I curb my words
to keep from being labeled
or mis-labeled?
Do I laugh at unfunny jokes?
How much of foreign culture
can I consume
before it consumes me?
Do I make a fuss?
Do I dare?
And do I dare?
Engagement without
relinquishment.
In the world I find myself in
I must leap in,
swim through
and keep my faith skin on
while I seek the good
for those
around me.
Exile
may be a place of blessing
if I remain engaged
with my hands open
to receive.
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