The Burning Bush
We may know what’s right and still do wrong
Greed and envy run our inner world
Like a crazed drunk bee we like to sting
Even as the blackbird is in song
The darkness of the heart will on it fall
We may know what’s right and still do wrong
We love to think we are the Queen or King
Perfect in our power , oh iron the walls
Yet crazed drunk bees can float on high to sting
The hurt inside the heart can last too long
The self retreats , the matador has failed
We know the end , the bull will kill the throng
When God came down , our spies soon had him nailed
The burning bush , the little voice, the tales.
We may know what’s right and do the wrong
Take pleasure in our violence, kill and sting
Copyright © Katherine Braithwaite | Year Posted 2019
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