Last night, I dreamed a dream.I was walking down a narrow alley,wet with rain and shadow,the kind of alley that smells of rust and old bread,the kind of place where the world throws awaywhat it doesn’t want to see.And there He was.A boy, maybe ten years old.Barefoot.Eyes wide, brown as fresh earth after rain.Tears had…
A Pastoral Poem for Gaza, the Refugee, and the Crucified TruthThey say I’m radicalbecause I cry for Gazabecause I see Godin the dust-covered lashesof a child whose only sinwas being born beneath the wrong flag,under a sky that remembers warmore than rain.They say I’m radicalbecause I still flinchwhen drones hum like insects overheadeven when they’re…
I looked, and behold: a valley of bones.Ezekiel saw them onceI see them now.A battlefield not ancient,but modern.Not myth,but Monday.Streets lined with ash.Towers crumbled like pride.Flags torn on twisted metalas if heaven itself refusedto bless this blood.And thenshe rose.Not with sword,but with flame in one hand,and branch in the other.A fire that did not consumebut…
Recently, my mother asked me,“Remember when you were young,and you used to say there would be war?”Then her voice cracked a bit…Through the phone I can hear her brokennessand she asked,“Why did you let your children join the military?”And I,with a deep breath and silent sigh,answered with trembling truth,“I guess I hoped humanity would choose…
I stood at the edge of the battlefield,but it was not a fieldit was a city,a schoolyard,a hospital,a hunger-line wrapped in barbed wire.The smoke rose like incense,but it did not carry prayersonly the stench of gunpowder and grief.And I heard the Lord cry,“Woe to those who join house to house, who add field to field,…
Inspired by Daniel 5:25–28(MENE, MENE, TEKEL, PARSIN) I watched the painter.She did not speak at first.She only dipped her brush into ashnot paintand dragged it across the canvas like a wound.The world kept spinning.The empire feasted.And she painted like she was remembering somethingwe had all tried to forget.I felt it in my bones.The ancient fire.The…
I am not Caesar’s.I do not bear his stamp.Though he’s tried to etch his empireinto the lines of my face,I have scraped him off with every holy tearand every cry for justice.I am not the emperor’s coin.I do not shine for his glory.I am not made to be traded,stacked, counted, spent, or hoarded.I was shaped…
(Inspired by Luke 20:9–19) I stood in the vineyard at dawn,and the soil was not soft with dew,it was stained.With blood, with ash,with the silence of prophetsburied beneath bureaucracy.The vines were twisted with sorrow.Children’s laughter did not echo here.Only sirens.Only boots.Only the sound of wallsbeing built higherthan hearts can reach.And the Owner,God,keeps sending servants.They come…
I was thereat the border,barefoot in the dust,my robe torn by razor wire,my name forgotten in the paperwork.They didn’t recognize me.Not with their flags wavingor their uniforms pressed,not with their boots stompingor their hands gripping steel.I cried out“Let the children come to me!”But they took them instead,ripped from brown-skinned motherswhose lullabies could not stop the…
A Reckoning for the War-Makers and the Sleepwalkers You will not bomb your way to peace.You will not drone your way to safety.You will not bulldoze children’s homes and call it defense.You will not flatten cities and expect anything but rubble to rise.No scripture—no sacred text from any tradition has ever blessed that lie.Not the…