Fierce grief expressed
resolutely
to an errant child.
Out of true,
we shudder and shimmy,
struggling to stay afloat
yet denying our duplicity
with hypocritical
leers.
The Father grieves
and steams -
"my people"
"my children"
"my beloved"
have betrayed Me.
You have embraced
your darker natures
and stubbornly
resisted all
my love
and discipline.
What more can
I do?
I see destruction
and desolation
awaiting you.
Underneath your shiny veneer
is rotten wood,
riddled with honeycomb -
you will shatter
at the merest breath.
Your phony ceremonies
will not save you -
you go through the motions
while treasuring
obscenities
in your heart.
It's revolting!
How far you have come
from the joyful
and pure hearts
that shone like diamonds
to entice the
nations.
Turn!
Turn from your hell-bent ways!
If you come back to Me,
we will begin anew -
your wickedness
will be obliterated,
though saturated with blood,
your hands will be washed
and sanitized,
completely clean.
But,
if you will not,
it will be to your own destruction.
I raised you to be honest
and you have lied,
to show tenderness
and compassion,
but you have ravaged
and trampled
the vulnerable.
Hear me call to you
again and again
even as you spit
on My name
and find your hope
in things.
When the shallow air
you breathe
chokes you,
when wealth trickles
to dust and fails
to comfort,
come back,
come back.
I will always,
always
love you.
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