Asunder
Whatever holds us together is threatened
by forces rending us apart:
Disparity of wealth and poverty
increase the emptiness of belly or soul.
Migrants displaced, overwhelm
our sense of identity, security.
Extremes of weather surge and
pull at our foundations; the edge of chaos.
The media of instant communication
should make us instantly at one,
but expose our privacy, vulnerability.
The news makes us voyeurs
of misery and achievement
fostering both guilt and envy.
Even as we shut if off, we isolate
ourselves from the human story
that would hold us as one.
Our prayers for unity that we may be
one in Christ, are frustrated by the walls
of our heritage, our governance
forming boundaries that enlarge the effort
it takes to come together.
Ignorance of the faith of the other
breeds intolerance of cherished beliefs.
The very enthusiasms we espouse
to overcome the gulfs of isolation
underline our difference.
Even the sexuality of others
is seen not as an intimate union but
a promiscuous corruption of relating
that was meant to bring new life.
The bond of humanity is threatened
by forces that would put us asunder.
The phone rings, interrupts my isolation:
I am pulled from fragments into now.
My neighbour so other, recovered,
I can after all take to her Church
in this octave of Unity.
There
I am welcome in the communion
of hymns, held, with Wesleyan warmth.
Copyright © Lisle Ryder | Year Posted 2018
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