Fire on Earth

Haiku of urgency

He brought division,

surprised us all; we wanted

polite religion.

His words were crazy,

wild, disturbing our comfort,

not respectable.

Co-opting his words,

we made of them a program

of pious order.

If you want polite,

respectable and ordered,

you’d better leave now.

Your world is dying

and all you sing is pretty.

Don’t give me pretty.

Your world is dying,

open your eyes, can’t you see?

Time to do something.

Don’t give me love songs,

give me love’s revolution;

let me take the pain.

© Ken Rookes 2019