I’ve had that thorn for years,
But it flared up a few days ago,
Acerbating a splinter
That was new and fresh.
Or maybe it was the splinter
That made the thorn flare up.
But anyway, I muttered “God,
Why is this necessary?”
But I didn’t hear God answer.
Instead I heard the mothers
Of murdered sons,
I heard the generations
Born and buried in refugee camps,
Living off commodities.
Instead, I heard the men
Living in villages long since made irrelevant
By a world changed too wrong,
Too fast,
By our greed.
So I will not ask God anymore questions,
Not for myself.
But the gathered faithful of this world
Should make our prayers
A thorn in the flesh of God,
On behalf of those who suffer
From the evils of our sin.
George R. Pasley
August 12, 2020
Martin TN
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