High def colors, lights and themes flash,
Rush-hour cars dash, talk-radio blasts,
Ten billion thoughts rash, busy minds rehash,
Without thought of You.
E-mails zing swiftly, all around the globe flying,
Salesmen manipulate consumers, prying,
Lotto ticket holder scores a grand, sighing,
With no sigh for You.
Theaters fill with souls, hooked by the latest,
Boasts clang from athletes, “I am the greatest!”
The Mid-East huffs peace for one brief hiatus,
Yet no regard for You.
Stadiums sardined with painted men, awed by names,
Names of chiseled figures, soldiers at game,
Enduring snow, sleet, hail, heat, heavy rains,
Could this be for You?
Bars full of drunkards, cursing, pontificating,
Sunday’s noon-gluttons, bloated from “buffet-ing”,
Preacher clicks the mouse in his office, masturbating,
Hiding from all but You.
Church-going man exasperates his kids,
Christian contractor wields unjust bids,
Mother suffocates infant, claims it was SIDS,
Breaking the heart of You.
Government sanctions homicide in the womb,
Brides are superfluous, groom marries groom,
Preachers envy preachers, their mouths open tombs,
Beckoning wrath from You.
Emergents emerge, cheap grace gains momentum,
“Apostles” build empires, can we find who sent them?
Devoid of humility, promoting books, systems,
In the name of who?
Lord, in this hour when love has waxed cold,
And we’ve lost the fire of the prophets of old,
For we’ve shirked the heat that would try us as gold,
We need mercy from You.
O, that our eyes were a fountain of tears,
Percolating copiously all of our years,
Until mercy rushes, until heaven hears,
‘Till we, whole-souled, behold You.
Wake us from sleeping, gift us with Your view,
Break us with weeping, to love as You do,
Rattle the fleeting ’til the eternal shines through.
O God of Israel, with grace make us true.
-B.A. Purtle, 2009 (Revised 2017)