I write to you
a culture
who forgot to dream
who read
the Word
like dictation
verses
for
recitation,
incantations
of puffed up pride
unaware of the
very thorn
that blinds the eye;
I write to you
a culture who cannot think
beyond
your own thought
lacking
wisdom,
or insight
because of
the dearth
of
intimate love;
I write to you
because
your angry words
hurt,
not only me,
but hearts that have
taken your whip
of
subjugation
subjugation
with patience
for so long,
too long;
I write to you
O rebellious nation,
who told you
to escape from the coming wrath
for the chains you put
on My people?
I write to you
who worship your imagination:
intellect and inspiration
and confine My people
to your preconceived
notions
of what must be
Who told you
that My sons
should
conform
to the way
you understand
a man to be
in thought,
feeling,
appearance?
Who told you
that you can tie up My daughters
with threats of purity
violating them
with your twisted
limitations,
expectations,
and
desires?
I write to you
a letter
forewarning of what is to come.
Consider yourselves notified.
and I am sending the Rain-Maker
who will wash all the filth away
from MY precious inheritance
Drowning the callous in a
a flood of Noahaic proportion
of
unapologetic
scandalous
MERCY,
MERCY,
which
will offend
the unprepared.
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| He is Coming 16x20" Oil on Canvas |
Lover's Dream
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