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talking to myself

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Yet another human pursuit

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markdohle

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The child was out playing one day,

His mother watching from the bench,

So beautiful and innocent the youngster,

His life peaceful with loving parents,

Extended family who loved and treasured him,

As young children are.

It happened so quickly, so sudden,

One moment all things were well,

When she looked away for a short time, then,

It was as if the earth opened up and swallowed him,

He was gone.

Frantic the mother ran looking for her beloved son,

Nowhere to be seen,

She cried and wailed to no avail ,gone,

As if he was never there.

There is so much evil, so much pain,

The sick and deranged among us seemed to be growing,

Lives ruined, marriages end,

Brothers and sisters, who remain, consumed with fear,

Also, with guilt over things done, or said, perhaps that very day.

How can we stand it?

The pain of the world that seems to grow everyday,

Where is God when it all goes down,

Is there any sense to it all,

Or is evil the final victor,

Death the consumer that engulfs all?

Children kidnapped, sold;

The sex trade growing,

What kind of person could do that?

Only pain to our questions,

Faith can seem hollow, empty, foolish,

Yet, I still believe in God,

Present in our pain unrelenting,

That is caused by the choices of men and women,

Somehow twisted beyond their humanity,

Themselves perhaps abused;

So the seeds take root,

Evil fruit the harvest.

Dont ask me for answers, I have none.

Those pious sayings of true believers,

True perhaps, but leaves the pain untouched,

Or the angry retorts of atheists,

Avail nothing,

Loud sounds made by empty drums,

Useless before the reality.

Numb with pain I live the mystery.

The crucified Christ

Carried all of our pain,

Our evil and sins,

Gut wrenching torture,

Sweat,

Blood,

His body torn and stretched on the cross,

When looked upon in reality,

Is the soul of each of us,

To look at the crucified is to see ourselves,

His death,

Our victory.

Foolish (?)

Perhaps;

Yet is atheism any better?

I think not,

Its answer to easy.

Life is a mystery to be lived

Not something understood;

At least for me that is true;

As I get older I know less.

But faith, not without doubt, continues to grow strong.

Sin is real,

Something hotly denied,

Its effects obvious.

Wars are started by us,

Rape and pillage is done by man,

Greed that lead to loss for others

Yet another human pursuit.

Lust,

Regulating another to a mere object for pleasure,

Then discarded,

Yes another human pass time,

Billons a day spent on war,

Yet we cannot take care of those in need.

Killing is so much easier,

So natural for us,

Making this world a hell on earth for millions.

Responsibility is ours though we often blame God.

Freedom however much we have,

Its extent hotly debated today,

If taken away will destroy our humanity,

Turning us into nothing more than herd animals,

Chewing our cud,

Without thought,

Intelligence or will.

Love lets us be, but does not abandon.

Perhaps this is our only hope,

God is faithful, even when faithlessness is common.

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