Poem submitted by Nancy Buck
WHEN Will Our Voices Grow?
When will our small, scattered voices grow–
Beyond the gritted teeth, the sideline scowls,
The silent rage at the pride-poisoned show,
The burning righteousness; the wounded howls?
WHEN WILL our voices grow?
Beyond presence denied or the check refused?
Another tear to weep for the innocent,
So young, so trusting, so scarred and abused.
Suffer the children unto Him; grief unseen, though ever-present
WHEN WILL OUR Voices Grow?
Strong enough to bear the responsibility we know—
As protectors to His children–our wide-eyed wonders–
We, their shields against the harmful blows,
Must not abdicate the fight against relentless blunders.
WHEN WILL OUR VOICES Grow?
We the people; we the church, should we not join their song?
Twenty-five on the wintry sidewalk of brotherly love–alone
Standing out, as we kneel within
Do we not victimize them again?
WHEN WILL OUR VOICES GROW?
To the strength of a choir, thousands strong,
Like a whispered wind grows a gusting gale,
Let ours be the communal cry against wrong
Overturning the tables in our temple without fail.
When Will YOUR Outrage Show?
To us the flock, bitten and misled
To the edge of the field, teetering on rocky ledge
When will your outrage show,
Beyond words of carefully crafted control?
Bless blameless shepherds, giving flocks their best,
And curse the crows who hovered and pecked, a secret code they knew
That banished innocence from its nest,
Never to be renewed.