Deborah Seale Poet Rhyme

How Much Longer

I see the altars turned to armor,

Where holy words are sharpened into knives,

And men with hollow, sinking eyes

Shout praise for broken lands and wasted lives.

They claim the Heavens for their earthly wars,

And build their peace upon a bed of flame,

While true love weeps outside the locked church doors,

Astounded by the violence in Your name.

And through the noise, I hear the longing

A quiet current through the toxic air.

The creation groans, the heavy winds are sighing,

A desperate, whispered, universal prayer.

I stand beneath the quiet evening sky,

My own tears held, my spirit worn and thin.

I know Your scales will balance by and by,

I know that true, pure justice will break in.

But in the heavy space between the years,

While wicked kingdoms think that they have won,

I lift my hands and shout through burning tears:

How much longer, Father, till the dawn?

I want to scream into the silent blue,

Because I see why others turn away.

They watch the bleeding earth and look for You,

But only find the shadows of delay.

How much longer must Your children bear the weight?

How many tears before the sky is torn?

We break beneath the violence and the hate,

And suffer in the dark before the morn.

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