In The News

Have you seen how poison gas peels

the flesh off a baby?    

Everything melts away except

for skin under the diaper.

Have you noticed how

a bullet pulls destruction through

all the layers of a child?

These children, our world’s hope,

were too small to know

how full of God they were, 

the pure crystal shimmer,

precious and holy.

J. Pratt-Walter, © 2019

That is You

I looked upon the white-coated mountain

and All that is Holy, She said “That is you.”

I lay in the shade of a towering maple

and All that is Holy, He said “That is you.”

I played tag with the ocean’s waves

and All that is Holy, They said “That is you.”

I danced with the fire by night

and All that is Holy, We said “That is You.”

I held an old, old kitty as he breathed his last breath

and All that is Holy, One said “That is you.”

I wept with a lost refugee

and All that is Holy, All said “That is you.”

I saw my reflection in a deep still pool

and All that is Holy, I said “I am You.”

J. Pratt-Walter, (c) 2019

CHURCHES

Your church steepled itself

at theirs, and theirs towered

its weight over yours.

His church walled itself

against hers, and her church

felt so small it waned like the moon

to invisibility,

and way over there

they yoked their church

to the worst god ever

while even farther,

bombs and guns were named

god.

Meanwhile, my church is

voicing the breeding frogs

and making the trees

to bloom.

J. Pratt-Walter, © 2019