war
According to the Experimental Theology blogger guy:
Deaths on 9/11 = 2,995
US Deaths in Iraq and Afghanistan = 5,408
Estimated Iraqi civilian deaths = 90,000-100,000
Each death a tragedy.
---
A Prayer of Hope, Written in the Woods
God of dewdrops blinking in the morning light
and stars that nightly shimmer in the fullness of space;
God of the places no one sees, like fresh-green
grown through the boles of fallen trees
and what breathes in the depths of a turquoise lake:
When I awake, I hear you in the mountain stream
and in the love-songs of unforgotten sparrows.
In the narrows of a rock where water falls
I hear the calls of a world that yearns
and seethes between your hands.
God of stands of livid trees and all that lies beneath -
of shadows and sorrows
and the joy of no tomorrows...
these days, I walk alone
and moan for what's not there.
But when I start to scare,
I see again the endless sky
and fall to resting on a raft of grass.
I see it all pass in cotton shapes of bliss
and feel again the kiss of you.
Anew I wonder at the God of thunder
and of birth of softer things like sparrows' wings,
of God who brings laughter to a time of whelming pain:
who made the summer rain
and winter moons that shone on long gone men.
And when the shadows roll again
and it seems the dark has won -
when I see the storm clouds still -
I close my eyes and bend my will
and wait,
wait for the sun.
by Josh Barkey (1999)
Deaths on 9/11 = 2,995
US Deaths in Iraq and Afghanistan = 5,408
Estimated Iraqi civilian deaths = 90,000-100,000
Each death a tragedy.
---
A Prayer of Hope, Written in the Woods
God of dewdrops blinking in the morning light
and stars that nightly shimmer in the fullness of space;
God of the places no one sees, like fresh-green
grown through the boles of fallen trees
and what breathes in the depths of a turquoise lake:
When I awake, I hear you in the mountain stream
and in the love-songs of unforgotten sparrows.
In the narrows of a rock where water falls
I hear the calls of a world that yearns
and seethes between your hands.
God of stands of livid trees and all that lies beneath -
of shadows and sorrows
and the joy of no tomorrows...
these days, I walk alone
and moan for what's not there.
But when I start to scare,
I see again the endless sky
and fall to resting on a raft of grass.
I see it all pass in cotton shapes of bliss
and feel again the kiss of you.
Anew I wonder at the God of thunder
and of birth of softer things like sparrows' wings,
of God who brings laughter to a time of whelming pain:
who made the summer rain
and winter moons that shone on long gone men.
And when the shadows roll again
and it seems the dark has won -
when I see the storm clouds still -
I close my eyes and bend my will
and wait,
wait for the sun.
by Josh Barkey (1999)
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