God

This is inspired by a guy I saw over fall break. I guess you could say I've been strugling with the idea of were christians fit in the world, how we're to participate in it. It seems that we are called to help and to heal, to spread the good news, not vote for some smoe running for office. Then again it is a government by the people and for the people. So the people make the rules. 

It is the piercing beauty of

A crumpled, worn-out,

Smashed up, wrung out black man,

Twitching leglessly in his

Wheelchair under the overpass

That is the greatest

Momunment to and most ghastly

Burlesque caricature of

The idea that God exists.

I should not be able to

Be wrenched by love

For this little bit of wind-blown

Litter of the human race, to be

Guilty of a chaingeless pocket,

A need to flee this worn pavement

For somewere far away by midnight and

Cannont help. Yet how can God

Do this, to him? What makes 

Him less worthy than I

Of two legs, a strong back, a sound mind?

Then,perhaps, thinks my mind,

It is society and I walking hand in hand

That bears the inditement for this crime.

Yet still, I would rather have

My arms,legs, and mind

Then hand them off to him.

Even though I have a family 

That would suround me with

A vast bulwork of love. And he,

I suspect, had none. God, 

I call you to acount,for

This crime.