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Dreaming of Paradise

Life’s a Beach

The sand, with some help from the wind,
covers a multitude of sins
but it does not erase them.
Half finished dreams,
failed promises,
the hours and days of misspent youth,
and abused hope.
Instead, the sand, with some help from the wind,
chips at, erodes,
and eventually turns the sins to sand
which,
with the help of the wind,
covers a multitude of sins.

80% Persecution Rate

A trending headline came up on my news feed the other day that read “80% of American Christians think they are persecuted.”  Now I can’t find the original article, but I found this one from the Atlantic which was published in June of last year.   That might make it old news to some, and the Atlantic article is nice because it really dives into the factors that contribute to this finding.  Continue reading “80% Persecution Rate”

The Biggest Cult in America

I read an article some months back about the two prosperity gospels that have infected American Churches.  I regret that I did not record or save the article so I cannot link to it for you.  Essentially however, it said that there are two beliefs  that have arisen in American Churches to the detriment of the church. Continue reading “The Biggest Cult in America”

Sunday Dinner

The table was set.
Rooms readied.
Fresh towels and new soap.
Everything was ready.
The Family was coming home
To a fine dinner
On fine china
And after a good meal
And a good drink
And a good talk,
We’d set aside our differences and live together.
At least that was the plan.
Then everyone began “shouting” at each other
Over text.
Facebook.
Twitter.
Most of us missed dinner.
Dad was happy for those who made it
But you could see him fighting back tears
Every time he glanced
At an empty seat.

Memories of an AIDS Orphanage

The children laugh and play and act like children
today.
Today the painted walls are bright.
The side of the building and
inside the building
are splattered a riotous
cacophony of color.
Just how the children like it
today.
Today a pink sun rises
over a fluorescent ocean
while the Sunlight Faeries
play their daylight games.
Today is colorful and playful and
childish.
But tomorrow some of them will be too sick to play.
They will stay in bed and miss
the daylight games.
They trade them instead for
purple suns and deep blue flowers
painted by Twilight Faeries who
gather together and play their
much quieter
games by the light of the
dying sun.
Regardless
night will eventually fall.
The games will end.
The home was too poor to save them.
The hospitals too afraid to treat them.
But there will always be plenty of kids on the playground.
Two dozen children or more
suffering under the scrutiny of New Leprosy
of 1976
all while Women in black and white hoods
lead by a Man with a black shirt and white collar
pray in a room they painted gray, black, and white.
They pray that enough people learned
enough compassion. That
enough children have their names written
on stone tablets
that there has been enough suffering.
They pray for a miracle.
But for whatever reason
they get a new Dormitory instead.
And for a while at least,
The Children get to play
the daylight games
of Daylight Faeries.

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