Words are wild dogs on a hunt, relentlessly chasing their prey until at last they tear into its living flesh devour the beast while it yet breathes.
We believe we are better than beasts, who hunt to survive, to live… life for life.
We believe words matter, as we point fingers, shame, accuse, berate- call out others, but not ourselves, hold accountable, but refuse to hold up a mirror that we might realize our words mean nothing.
The One who sees and knows every word spoken also said to hate your brother is to be a murderer already, and what did you just say to your brother, your sister, your neighbor, your mother, your child? When every face looking back at you is your brother, your sister, your neighbor, your mother, your child!
AND you, who can’t control your own tongue, you want to tell me what I need to do? Who I need to be? What I should believe, say, do? You want to give me advice? You can’t stop murdering your brother, so, tell me why I should listen to you?
You prefer to reduce me to a hashtag, while casting me aside one more in the multitude of idols that parade before your eyes. Each one in turn holds your gaze- but all, eventually, just passing phase. I Am… not a phase. Now, listen…
Your attention is that of a rat…uncaring toward what it feeds on, so long as it is fat. You’re satisfied with lesser things, exchanged for all my presence brings.
I am not your preference, priority, or passion- instead you chase trends and passing fashion. Though I am author of all you see, your eyes remain fixed on humanity.
Demanding what will never be, this side of eternity. Wasting away your precious years on worldly wisdom and earthly fears.
Though through mercy, with unchanging grace I’ve paid every debt of the human race.
In blindness you continue to walk, as revealed in your daily talk, filled with malice, lacking love. Sharing not the perspective of heaven above.
If your words be your fate, consider this sentence, as you wait- for what you say not your silence will surely greet you at the gate.