Preaching the Gospel of the Kingdom of God.
He waited among the trees
In prayer alone with fear
No peace among those Olive leaves
His final sermon drawing near
His pulpit was a rough-cut tree
His cloak bloody and bare
His final words choked free
Below a mob only stared
He preached pardon to a thief
Then consoled His mothers grief
Loud thunder clapped a final hymn
And earthquakes growled Amen
And looking to that empty throne
Saw Gods back and He alone
Asking “why” with his last breath
Sermon over …welcomed death
Dear Sir /Madam
I am now a US citizen who came here from Africa. In various African churches, we sang about America the beautiful and “amber waves of grain” from donated American hymnals.
Relief agencies would fly in Mielie Meel (Corn Flour) and other staples while bare foot Africans stood in line waiting. Women carrying babies in a sling, carried 10kg bags of corn back to the village, to be pounded to flour with mortar to make flatcakes on hot stones.
In Seattle, I now pay for emission testing.
Meanwhile back home in many countries, my family tells me hunger is rampant and the relief flights don’t come as often as food aid buys less these days. I discovered Iowa used to export 50% of their corn harvest but is soon to be importing corn for ethanol Bio-fuel.
I am not against Bio-fuel. Brazil has 40% of their all fuel made from sugar cane, but it takes 450 pounds of corn to fill an SUV tank – in Africa that is food for 1 whole year. Please reconsider making BioFuel from wood or from sugar cane like Brazil. Why sing about “amber waves” of industrial production when people starve?.
Why target the poor mans harvest and starve him for our Bio-fuel. I can not help but think every time I fill my car – How many people will not eat so I can drive? Even here poor Mexicans spend money on corn tortillas and rioted last year.
I will pay more for gas – but don’t make me guilty of murder and taking the food from the poor. Leave the food alone and use something else, like sugar or wood for Bio-fuel.
We find our destiny
On the road we take away
Far from Seattle
To where Inverness lay
Left behind are all our losses
Dead dreams on empty crosses
We walk away forever?.
To that place “Love” finds us.
And shares the road beside us.
That “Stranger” with a point of view.
He does not scold our running
For He knows our petty fear,
Yet questions our confusion
Of promises, He made so clear.
He assures us – “I will return!”
Then shares our evening meal
And leaving us these few words
“Kindle Hope into Desire!”
“Fan Faith into a Flame!”
“Blazing Action, Now on Fire!”
“Teach all this and use My Name!”
So running back into my city
With a burning to proclaim
“He is alive!” ” He is alive!”
And I will never be the same!”
Yom Kippur – October 9th 2000 afternoon.
