Connecting The Dots

It transpired last afternoon, just as my shift began;
I got there ahead and said to self, I think I can;
But the scent of blood brought out attack on one that’s weak –
Flagrantly he called the pack to clean the bones of meat.

I had met Akaila when I worked another place;
He had now retired and was the first to get a taste
Of the blood he needed when he circled with his talk,
Gathered up his forces like in battles he had fought.

I’ve been here before as people moved in for the kill –
Church, and staff, and renegades – each playing out their will;
Yesterday I wondered why those scenes so vividly
Flooded through my mind – but it’s the same thing – now I see.

Change the names and faces, the dynamics are the same;
Wolves cull out the herd of old, and sick, and weak, and lame;
“Keeps the gene-pool healthy; it’s survival of the fit;
Watch your P’s and Q’s, or on your forehead we will sit”.

Just as fast as they form up, they fade into the dark –
“We were never vigilantes, trouble did not start”;
“We were never one of them, how could I act like that?”
Simple – you are human – like the wolf, you will attack.

As I stepped between the bottom and impending doom,
I was not prepared or gifted to avoid the tomb;
Waiting there to crush each firm as death prevails once more,
Stripping off residuals, stone rolled across the door.

But that’s not what we were doing, as in Jesus’ case;
Purpose was much bigger – something for the human race;
Change more like the butterfly’s as chrysalis is cracked
Letting former slime emerge, transformed – life given back.

One can only do that task when death is left behind;
Wolves encircling at the end’s ingrained within each mind;
Purpose can be larger, we can walk our neighbors through,
Pouring oil and wine on wounds, and donkey riding too.

Giving up the best of life that other folks might live,
Is what we can do, in Christ, such blessing we can give,
Only if we’ve dealt with life and death and know the score –
Then we can responsive be – give under-standing more.

We can’t know the best approach until we’ve stopped to pray;
Our reactions get pulled down to lower-level play,
By the people circling ’round to drain us of our blood,
Clearing up residuals just like tsunami flood.

How much more of evil is there, Lord, to let me see?
How much more of how it plays out will You show to me?
I have not been blind, so much as dots have not hooked up;
Shape of wolves with bloodied teeth emerged now in the rough.

Numbers are a part of business; sequence shapes each line;
All is well until a shape emerges over time;
We connect the dots, the circling wolves can then be seen,
Business practice is so much about the mean and mean.

If this was a game, we’d toss the table, drop the mask,
Cash our chips, and walk away, or for a lift home ask;
It’s no game, it’s serious, the stakes are very real;
Walking down this troubled road, its impact’s what we feel.

This is nothing really, it gets worse, but that’s enough;
Watching others take a hit that should have been for us
Is cathartic, opens eyes – what can’t be seen within,
Suddenly emerges – dots connected – human sin.

navigation