Zoographic Renewal

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    Zoographic Renewal



    The watches from dusk to dawn greet the steamiest, seemiest of earth

    With guardians of humankind recording crys accompanying cold mirth

     

    Over torture and o’er bloodshed, over robbery and rape

    The innocent all helpless to even make escape

     

    Man down in the street! and an angel takes its flight

    The record stands complete, down to a sparrow’s dying plight

     

    Centuries have passed, iron grates are now of steel

    We all sleep behind such bars, but only few of us still feel

     

    Feel the exhuberant joy, freedom insists to morally proclaim

    While humanity yet suffers on, and God gets all the blame

     

    Making trades with God, or some soul-exchanging pact

    Trusting Devil’s more humane to sycophants of his act.

     

    We’re not left alone, though often it so seems

    Like Jacob, we too, slumber with ladder-filling dreams

     

    While our head’s upon a rock and we’re too far from home

    And the desert night’s cold everywhere in exile we must roam.

     

    Take us back to that ladder joining Jacob’s chill that night

    And let the angel wings escort us as we climb upward to that light

     

    If there truly is a heaven, an escape from this earth’s care

    If you can’t rescue our bodies, let our spirit’s rest up there

     

    Don’t wait for life’s sad ending, to escort what’s left above

    Send an angel now to reach us, working through a human’s love .

     

    Let there be more of kindhearted souls, include peacemakers, too

    God, restore us back to Eden, or turn this earth into a zoo.

     

    Let zoographic intentions of earth’s renewal be defined

    And forgive it if I mention I’ve about just lost my mind.

     

    I scares me just to think of the adder who’s next door

    A lion loose in the streets, in the park, I’ve seen wild boar

     

    With the scorpion living upstairs, the wolves camped out in the back

    While a mad monkey acts as mayor, baboons gang up to attack 

     

    The pistol packing hedghogs, the violent pack of rats

    The crack-addicted mongrels, chase the caterwalling cats

     

    When turtles run utilities, and tarantulas the banks

    The road crews made of trailing snails, and army ants the tanks

     

    Makes a bad name for creation, but they must wear our shame

    Until a change in situation, corrects the focus of our blame

     

    Is isn’t You that has so failed, that we demand some arbitation

    But we who need to have our way, and damn the escalation

     

    Of every evil, striping every hue, and every hellish curse

    We’ve done it our way for so long, and it’s only gotton worse.

     

    I wonder what would happen, if we’d confess to cherished sins

    Then ask for intervention, and see then what change begins?


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    Teardrops commented on Zoographic Renewal

    01-21-2011

    We have to believe in us and know and pray we can handle life as it comes . Great write Marie

    HarverTomsson

    01/21/2011

    Wish we could get the antelopes on the road crew next spring. They'd get the barrels off the closed lanes quicker. Hah Harv

    ginga commented on Zoographic Renewal

    01-21-2011

    Harv, I certainly wonder if it would only improve handing the reigns over to the beasts. we may get eaten in the process...LOL! ginga

    HarverTomsson

    01/21/2011

    We're pretty much devouring one another right now without taking each other to dinner. Not that it couldn't be actually worse. . . don't want to think about that just now. Harv

    irreverent commented on Zoographic Renewal

    01-20-2011

    quite the menagerie Harv - your deft, accurate characterizations amaze. Living in the zoo of ours leaves us a bit crazed. But if He is truly omniscient - why? Free will seems a easy out to me these days. I take your point - but would prefer evidence of divine concern before submitting myself to divine judgment. As for divine intervention...that has yet to manifest in my life, despite years of repentance, prayer and faith. excellent writing - as always. and deeply appreciated. 10

    HarverTomsson

    01/20/2011

    We'll have to talk more about the details. Faith comes not by signs, but by hearing the word of God. Signs may be the fruit of faith, but not its rightful originator. the story of Jesus is the greatest evidence that God does care. Sin is so insideous, we have to feel outright pain or we would embrace it in our fallenness. Because obedience doesn't seem attractive to our natural inclinations to have things our way. Even the Captain of our salvation was made complete through sufferings. And the servant is not greater than the Lord. We pray not to avoid suffering, but to transcend it. In that tanscendance we have oower to countit as joy, not joy, but as joy, knowing that for every suffering now, God has a reward of amplified joy later. Action-reation. Do not lose heart so close to the goal. Your best days are in the future. Harv

    irreverent

    01/20/2011

    do you do that for a living or something? lol. I'll probably be back to read this comment strand...I understand the concept of faith, just - guess I need to stick my fingers in the holes. God will have to deal with me himself - if he exists, it should be well within his power to give me some - conviction. sorry to be such a problem child, but this is where I'm at. I feel like I sacrificed my whole life to hang onto a bunch of nonsense - a belief system founded on fear of consequences - that requires one to abandon oneself for the good of others, always - I believe - differently now - that if we as individuals lived in such a way that self-respect and morality manifested in our ideal embodiment of self - the world would be a far better place. too much to go into here....

    HarverTomsson

    01/20/2011

    Hell doen't burn forever. That is the fear based myth of serving God from an ignorance of what thepassages of judgemnt actually say. We love because He first loved us, not scared us into it. The tragedy of hell, is not eternal suffering, it is eternal sepration from life, and love, and the fulness of joy. I see past your cynical mood and sense a good heart struggling to survive.

    carynontherhine commented on Zoographic Renewal

    01-20-2011

    unbelievably descriptive! All the way through. You got it right about life. Of every evil, striping every hue, and every hellish curse we've done it our way for so long, and it's only gotten worse. Fabulous line Harvy! A true creation this one is. Gosh they just do not all fit into my fav's. I think I have them all and then boom you put out another and another and yet another...Hugz

    HarverTomsson

    01/20/2011

    Thanks, Caryn, looks like you're gonna have to take up scrapbooking until these things go to print. Or just trust your hard drive, and back up thumb drive. Harv

    carynontherhine

    01/20/2011

    You funny man

    spbsdude commented on Zoographic Renewal

    01-20-2011

    That was one amazing vent of frustration with this crazy world. There is so much going wrong in this world as you have so aptly portrayed. I think there are angels, but they don't have wings. They are all around us, in the form of those who do the things many others either only think about, but never do. I have felt the hand of those angels in my life. There is hope, but it is found in the hearts of those who still can feel real emotion. We poets sometimes need to be critics of society. Read "Let Him In", and if I haven't posted it yet I will again soon, read also "The Least of These." Stay well my friend, it all changes one heart at a time. all the best, Spbsdude aka Tom

    HarverTomsson

    01/20/2011

    Vent? OK but also a problem solving idea offered. Harv

    spbsdude

    01/20/2011

    True, but I call this Repentance, and changing one heart at a time is how repentance works. If we all confessed and forsook our cherished sins, then we might be able to let him intervene. But the first step is always ours. Live well, Friend, Spbsdude.

    Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.

    T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.

    HarverTomsson’s Poems (107)

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