There is something calling,
if you still retain a shed of decency
you can hear it- it's a dim terrible
voice that's calling-- a bass howl, like
a cow in a slaughterhouse, but
far, far off...
It is calling us to action, calling us
to stand against the calamity,
to spare nothing, not our blood,
not our happiness, not our lives
in the struggle to stop the dreadful day
that's burning now
in oil flames on the horizon.
What makes the voice pathetic
is that it doesn't know
what kind of people it's reaching.
Us.
No one hears it, except us.
This Age wanted heros.
It got us instead:
carefully constructed, but
immobile.
Subtle, but
unfit
to take up
the burden of the times.
It happens.
A whole generation of washouts.
History says stand up,
and we totter and collapse,
weeping, moving, but not sufficient.
The best of us, lacking.
The most decent,
not decent enough.
The kindest,
too cruel,
the most loving,
too full of hate,
the wisest,
too stupid,
the fittest
unfit
to take up
the burden of the times.
The Enemy
has a voice like seven thunders.
What chance did that dim voice ever have?
Marvel that anyone heard it
instead of wondering why nobody did anything,
marvel that we heard it,
we who have no right to hear it-
no right!
And it would be a mercy not to.
But mercy... is a thing... no one
remembers its face
anymore.
------ Tony Kushner---
precept upon precept line upon line
hearing this word but not doing anything!
woe to the street criers woe to the bell ringers
the school teachers the church goers
who know this word
but don't do
anything.
Arise, I say!
Cry out in the night
as the watches of the night begin.
Pour out your heart like water
in the presence of the Lord.
When will you come,
fall down at the throne of grace,
lay down your inabilities
lay down your emptiness
lay down your impotence
and say Father- here i am.
use me. me. me. i will go.
i will obey. i will seek you.
i will. i will.
-------Anna Irby
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