Dot, dot, dot.
I take my place in this pale blue dot so let me ask you something dot dot dot
When the fire moulds the metal that forms the guns that shoots my enemy…where are you?
Perhaps to ask more boldly, where were you?
I’m told you’re on the side of the victors who’ve won new lands.
I’m told you bless leaders who look to heaven and raise their hands.
But I don’t see them needing you.
Instead, I see the bruised, the maimed, the displaced, the ones who’ve lost.
There’s no denying, every war has a cost and every cost is a life and every life is lost.
So where are you to stop this mess?
The nations rage back and forth, like waves who battle with no end in sight.
Not going anywhere but moving towards something—is it darkness or is it towards the light?
Just yesterday we wore red and white and danced all night to the sounds and blasts of patriotism.
But I know many who see the red and white in fear and pain because of the sounds and blasts of colonialism.
So where are you?
And how do you want me to live in this pale blue dot? I’m willing to listen … dot dot dot …
A response to Psalm 2