There is too much.
Too much grief.
Too much loss.
Too much anger,
too much frustration threatening to boil over,
too much of your world coming undone,
too much blood on the streets,
too many lives left to their brokenness.
too many circus lights, too few foundations.
The earth is moving beneath your feet
and your faith is tested, a fearful thing,
all too revealing of your weakness,
the small part you play in a delirious world.
you build your wall,
unsure if it is to keep the world out,
or to keep you in.
About this poem
It has been unrelenting, this unraveling. Storms. Murders. Abandonment. The insanity of politics today. The loss of music.