This poem was written many years ago, after another horrific school shooting. There was so much going on at the time: genocide in Africa, the on going war in the Middle East, bullying, child abuse, missing children, abortion, poison in dog and cat food, sexual violence, police brutality and gang violence. It was all to much... and so this poem was written to try and bring me some comfort. With two shootings in the last two months, I hope it brings you some comfort as well
The Evil That Men Do by Dr. Naima Johnston Bush, Founder of the Refreshing Life with Naima
It amazes me
That You have not deserted us by now
Since we’ve uninvited You,
Into this thing called life.
As if Your blood
Wasn’t enough to justify
And Your word was simply powerless on the page.
Metal scrapes air,
Rupturing softened hearts
Eager, open to academic rigor.
It is the evil that men do,
Bound by dreams their eyes can’t see.
Their daily fellowship with abject communication.
Chased by ghosts,
Who demand they call the innocent to account
Screaming for payment
On a debt no longer owed.
Refusing to love a neighbor
May lead him to the brink, a land of no return,
Leaving broken hearts, empty arms
Fractured and akimbo.
And the neighbor was unknown to all,
Who was punished by his hand.
The neighbor did not know
That the blood price had already been gathered
By Your nail scarred hands.
But the evil that men do, demands that it be,
Poured out as an offering again and again.
African coasts hiding homicide
While terror rises in my own throat.
And I understand that this is the war that truly must be fought.
Whispers of ancient lands and genocide,
Labors cut short by the choice called death.
Roving marauders clashing in urban battle grounds
Screams unacknowledged as clothing rips.
Faces splashed on TV screens and highway signs
Rechristen every lost child “Amber”,
Even if it’s little Billy who is never seen again.
Winter finding unholy comfort in the Springtime,
And even our companions fear to feed.
This thing, this evil that men do,
Makes me reach for communion with You.
Trust that You see,
You mourn, You wait,
Biding Your time,
Until the promise comes to pass,
That in the end it will be avenged
This evil that men do.
Dr. Naima Johnston Bush (c) 2015
All Rights Reserved