from "Corea"

Another from the series called (for now) "Corea"

Psalm

Lord High, which way should I go?
Where do seeds grow?
Where can I be sown?
    I never once imagined
    that I’d be trapped in heaven,
    but here I am with ankles in shackles.
Lord tell me please,
I’m begging,
where’s the key?
    I’m singing to You,
    and I know You know it’s true,
    I’m lost, trying to find You.
You know I have no answers
but my, oh my, this place is cancer.
This society is a tumor
spreading like a rumor;
wild fire gossip
and hell-fire gospels;
we’re no longer all people.
We’re Americans and Iranians
Europeans and Africans,
divided under flags,
each waving high above the steeple.
    Lord how can I
    look all this in the eye
    and keep on with this smile?
Lord aren’t you great?
Greater than the state?
So why don’t you placate
these angry men you made?
Or is the task too great
for something that has gone away
and left us here to stay
lost in the dark? You play
with our lives for your own good times.
You’ve pumped us full of lies,
caused religion to divide,
men and women to fight.
You brought about
the battles and drought
and left us here to die,
so Lord, Lord! why’d you make us to cry?

    I apologize.
    I didn’t mean to criticize.
    You are these blue skies
    and happy loving sighs
    of words whispered by
    the lips of True Love.
So whisper to me,
I’m begging on my knees,
what happened to humility?
    These people who claim
    you, mock your name
    in tremendous ways.
They go to church
and watch
the preacher till the clock
strikes 12. Then they can eat,
so they rush home and feast
and praise your name
and pray and pray,
while others lay splayed
on the pavement in the rain,
searching gutters for what may
be their only meal today,
but I know this ain’t good faith,
so Lord, tell me, what’s the way?
    Infinite You, what is beyond
    this which seems so long,
    this place that seems so wrong?

    Will it all come back around?
    Will kings and peasants play on level ground?
    Will the humble become the proud?
   
O! Lord the politics
of bureaucrats and aristocrats
and church and state
    are so far removed
    from what You say is so
    important.
It’s easy to say
to love and love each day,
but that’s the best praise
of your charm and grace.
I’ll ignore these political games
and monetary gains;
these backward social ways,
the arrogance of religious claims,
the dirty rotten scoundrels
who dare to play me for the fool.
    I’ll continue to flounder
    and stumble through this mire
    until I’m pulled higher
    than all these silly trifles;
    and am one with the clouds;
    and am one with the sea;
    and am happy once again
    in bowed humility
Lord High, please come down and rescue me!