Gaza

Saturday, 

We ran the kids to soccer

Forty minutes late

And put the SUV into the shop

For oil and some water.

Waiting at the stop inside the car,

I paused to scan my phone.

A lonely post on media 

From a new uncertain author promised

Jesus is in Gaza.

On Sunday

As we always do,

We bowed our heads on top our pew

And prayed and heard 

Another sermon on the parable

Of robbery on the empty road,

And afterward we went 

For pizza with the teens.

I noticed on my screen some strange reporting.

Jesus is in Gaza

Breaking open cans of blessed garbanzo beans

And putting them in open empty hands.

"Take, my body."

Evening

I was thinking of the rumors

While getting in my steps.

I of course regret

Unfortunate young children starving,

Guns and rubble,

Dying infants and the newly lame,

But the President swears terrorists

Are hiding everywhere,

And so, we give the guns and bombs

And watch the homes explode

To fight the trouble Israel is always going through.

If Jesus is in Gaza,

It's a shame we likely got him, too.

- 7/9/25