Friday, September 13, 2013

Poem: These Little Ones (inspired by The Just Church)

I recently downloaded a copy of Jim Martin's, The Just Church.  I have been reading this book in spasmodic fashion over the course of this year.  Truth be told, I had hoped to read it in one sitting.  The book however carries a weightiness that requires 'bite size chunks.'  The writing is excellent and the story telling draws you in to the narrative with effectiveness.  The content, however, is alarming, disconcerting and heart breaking; as well as victorious and courageous!

I have read with tears the plight of little ones suffering across this globe at the hands of 'men without chests' (Lewis reference).  While I do not know how deeply moved I will be and what action I will take, the reading caused a 'poem' to stir in me that I have taken time to put on paper.  

This poem might be somewhat graphic and is 'raw' in its vision of what type of person and world would tolerate such sin.  It also captures the reality that if we continue to tolerate such evil, we will do so to our own demise.  The poem is completely unedited and I am open for your feedback, questions and perhaps suggestions for revisions.  However, my deepest hope is that it will cause you to explore International Justice Mission and the life and culture saving work in which they engage.  If you wold like to have the scales scrapped from your own eyes as I have mine, then pick up the book, The Just Church by Jim Martin.  Here is a link for you: http://www.thejustchurch.com/

These Little Ones
These little ones
Sunken eyes and swollen Heart
Torn apart from family
Future no more.
Torn not by love,
But desire disturbed, distorted, deflated;
Pus filled.

These little ones
Sold
Traded
Stocked
Branded
Lost

What manic world allows Human self will
Imposed on those less easily kept?

Break the yoke;
The chain, the boulder
Imprisoned and sexed
And carried by neck
Through the throttle
Of one’s distorted desire.

Corrupted!
Children now burn in this fire.

Open our eyes to the hurt;
Pain . . .
Loss . . .
More than we know
The loss also ours;
Flesh is transformed,
In our zombie like compulsion,
Consumed.
All we of dust.

Awaken our heart;
Beat in rhythm for these
Little ones without names
Numberless
In sex ditches

Will truth prevail?
Will the heart reignite?
Might we rescue these little ones
Lost in the dread of this fright?

Naught without will
To bring justice to bear.
By those who would
See,
Fight,
Stand!
A voice to their silence!
Fierce eyes to their sight!
Protect these little ones!

Save us all in this plight!