Caught in the Cross Hairs

7/22/22

How do we stop the routine

that blinds us

from the privileged position

of the earth

that binds us

as it turns?

 

An image brighter than the sun burns.

 

Like ants we run away.

 

Survival is our day-to-day.

 

He looks through a just scope

for a voluntary scapegoat

to find, at last, a respectable kill.

 

His motive?

Neither a self-aggrandizing thrill

nor for the money

like a provincial mercenary

pleading a case

before a guilty jury.

 

We have neither liability of insurance

nor can we pay the deductible

for Perfection.

 

Our reassurance

is His willingness

to be caught in the cross hairs,

a red dot

at the intersection

of an atoning fare

and a predetermined time-slot.

 

With one eye that never blinks,

He stares intently

and waits patiently

for centuries

on a mountain of laws

to put an end to the bloodshed

with the last shot

heard around the block.

 

The King of the Ants

moves into position

to be burned by the Light

only to be brought back to life.

 

Never has a buck been given this birthright.

 

Like a statue

the Hunter and His weapon of righteousness

stand still.

 

Here comes the kill shot.

 

Suddenly, the old ways are void.

 

The moon drips crimson

and the rifle’s destroyed.

 

The curse is lifted.

 

A new decree is gifted—

“Cast not the first stone.”

 

Forevermore,

the inhabitants of the land

drink heartily

and eat merrily

for the sacrifice

of one of their own.

8/8/22

Friends feed the inherent desire in every single one of us to be seen and heard and remembered. And that makes us feel immovable and immortal as if the universe itself came alive to witness a miracle. And nothing we say or do will ever be forgotten. (This hints at the foreshadowing of a personal relationship with the ultimate Being—immovable and immortal—who is closer to us than a brother and who created us to know Him and to be known by Him.) But what if this convivial concept of friendship escapes us?

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7/29/22

Godspeed

if you’ve dropped your keys,

hat or hash pipe

into the “rabbit hole”

of delusive fantasy,

whirling and writhing down

an eternal abyss of insanity,

further and further away

from the drain of objective reality.

Read More »

7/22/22

Our reassurance

is His willingness

to be caught in the cross hairs,

a red dot

at the intersection

of an atoning fare

and a predetermined time-slot.

Read More »

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