(x = space)

x

x

Wealth of Nations

x

O God

For invocation

Oh, God

To plea

Our world groans

With war

And the imbalance

Of the greedy

Systems

x

Justice should be a system

Greed is not good

Unless you’re winning

For a while

While all our cells corrupted

May yet cry for mercy

x

The ears to hear

Might be

The last to go

x

God

Help us

And forgive us

The Earth is ours

And we forget

And leave it to a few

Who vote for nothing

But self-fattening

And a self-deceiving glimpse

Of real power

x

Let all rise

(the poorly-

agendaed, too)

To march

Or stand in place

To sing

As if

Accompanying Earth

With all the antiphons

The spheres above

Below

That glide

And when against each other

Glory in the sacred touch

The music

Of all order

And all chaos,

Arranged

As creation’s gift

x

And this is wealth

Not the other

Once we feed each other

And can stand or march

(or sit with age

or disability

and purpose)

To hear the strains

Of everything

And offer ours

x

Our gift

Unto the glory

Of Earth

And all-around’s,

Of God’s all

x

C L Couch

x

x

Photo by Illiya Vjestica on Unsplash

x

Advertisement