They have Moses and the prophets

Haiku for closed eyes.

Poor man Lazarus,

by the gate, covered with sores;

we walk right past him.

The unnamed rich man,

dressed in purple, fine linen,

feasting ev'ry day.

Discarded food scraps

do not reach the rich man's gate

or the beggar there.

Empathy fails us.

Please don't disturb our comfort.

Make the beggars leave.

Death comes to us all.

Rich or poor, it matters not;

was your life worthwhile?

Where are your riches;

From where will your comfort come

when your life has passed?

Send me Lazarus,

or let him warn my brothers

that they might be saved.

That's not how it works.

Let them listen to Moses,

and the prophets too.

We'd rather not know.

Even when it's God who speaks,

we do not listen.

© Ken Rookes 2016

Indifference

(a poem written by Studdert Kennedy - a chaplain in the 1st world war, - but the sentiment feels appropriate to me when i think of Australia's attitude towards asylum seekers.) 

Indifference, by GA Studdert Kennedy 

When Jesus came to Golgotha, they hanged Him on a tree, 
They drove great nails through hands and feet, and made a Calvary; 
They crowned Him with a crown of thorns, red were His wounds and deep, 
For those were crude and cruel days, and human flesh was cheap. 

When Jesus came to Birmingham, they simply passed Him by. 
They would not hurt a hair of Him, they only let Him die; 
For men had grown more tender, and they would not give Him pain, 
They only just passed down the street, and left Him in the rain. 

Still Jesus cried, ‘Forgive them, for they know not what they do,’ 
And still it rained the winter rain that drenched Him through and through; 
The crowds went home and left the streets without a soul to see, 
And Jesus crouched against a wall, and cried for Calvary. 

by GA Studdert Kennedy