Christos Victor,
USA.
moment of my conception,
my gifts and talents,
my sex and pigmentation;
i chose them—
just like you did…
history i studied,
listened and learned.
every tribe and nation conquered,
defeated its neighbors
at one time or another.
the subdued were enslaved.
some recently emancipated
now claim there must be
full reparations for lives stolen.
how many millennia do we redress?
I, the son of slaves,
my mother nearly died
starving, pleading
as Hitler subjugated
peaceful, weaker neighbors
my father was of age
spent over a year hiding,
avoiding detection—
by Hitler’s decree,
destined for factory slavery.
before that my people…
those serfs and rabble
for generations uncounted,
pigments too light to matter.
no one hears our complaint.
legal immigrants to foreign lands,
strange languages learned,
old customs and traditions
ill-fitting and so discarded,
a culture too small to count.
enjoying disability’s challenge
genetic codes so uncaring
yet I’m thankful for God’s provision—
my privilege is to love God and others
as Christ selflessly loves me.
watching refugees flee terror,
a child’s body washing up on a beach.
your protest… do their lives matter?
now where is your lament?
will you forgive as you are forgiven?
