A New Song
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“Woe to those who are at ease in Zion
And to those who feel secure on the mountain of Samaria
The notable men of the first of the nations…”
Amos 6.1
And he called out, ‘Father Abraham, have mercy on me, and send Lazarus to dip the end of his finger in water and cool my tongue, for I am in anguish in this flame.’ But Abraham said, ‘Child, remember that you in your lifetime received your good things, and Lazarus in like manner bad things; but now he is comforted here…
Luke 16.24-25
Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground.
John 8.6
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[I wrote these words, on the way back from a mission trip to Haiti, in the aftermath of the 2010 Port-au-Prince earthquake]
Brown Ghosts
Wheels up in the afternoon
Home couldn’t come too soon
Flying me back to the promised land
Of lattes, cars, and porn
Plenty of time to think about
How nothing’s as we boast
Plenty to time to forget about
The faces of brown ghosts
Now you see them, now you don’t
Now you see them, now you won’t
Now you wonder how they’ll never be
Anything more than memory
Anything more than memory
The bath-water rain is falling hard
On sugar cane and dogs with mange
Pretty girls the color of Hershey bars
Grocery bags upon their braids…
Plenty of things to think about
While I’m winging towards the gulf
Plenty of time to forget about
The embrace of the brown ghosts
Now you see them, now you don’t
Now you see them, now you won’t
Now you wonder how they’ll never be
Anything more than memory
Anything more than memory
In the pictures on your Facebook wall
Toothy smiles and dark eyes float
In the background of your portrait dark
Fading faces of brown ghosts