5.16.21 Voiceless

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Yesterday my son texted me a picture of a bird’s nest that he and his cousin found when they were playing baseball outside. A perfect, manilla colored egg lay atop the nest. It would have been a happy discovery indeed, but when when I scrolled in to look closer, right beneath the egg, I realized that the top layer of the nest was green, plastic netting, commonly used as lawns are being made … not grown … created. It hurt to see; so I wrote.

I’m afraid we’ve failed you –

again

And I’m afraid no one remains

unaffected

less protected

or more rejected

than those who have no voice to raise

How is it that we have fallen so far

from Eden?

from grace?

from the commission to

take care

or

be aware

Instead we close our eyes

and compromise

our virtue for value

and sustainable

for easily attainable

I’m so sorry

and I know it’s not enough

It hurts …

this separation of who we were called to be

and what we’ve become instead

I’m afraid there isn’t much time to fix things

to fix us

to mend your broken heart

to mend our broken place

But I promise to try

to use the voice I still have

even if it’s barely a whisper

You say actions speak louder

so that brings me some comfort

I guess this is me

taking one more step