Tags
ballot, death, dust, Poetry, politics, queen of Sheba, resurrection, Solomon, vote
Given how annoyed I have been with all the voting stuff going on – and I am merely loving my neighbor as myself insofar as I am equally annoyed when stuff like that happens in Canada – I thought I should offer a Christian reflection on the occasion. I suppose I can see why people get frustrated when they try to talk to me about politics – the dithering probably gets annoying…
Democracy
Not indubitable debt to reason,
But fear is why we fly, as free,
From belief in the risen dead.
We are based in us
Inconvenienced if some corpse claws
Back up to say,
“Before you were,
And all your progress,
All your glory
All your sin –
Before you were,
And your progress –
There were people somewhere somehow living
Somehow somewhere living lacking
Knowledge of self-pity due.”
Yes, and to say,
“Progress could quit in a flash
Here today and
Tomorrow the sparkmist
Vain
Snuffed.”
Truth from the mouth
Of the Queen of the South:
“You unburied but one part of Solomon’s treasure –
Try and say which.”
But oh for a thousand tongues to sing
Exactly what we want them to sing
And then stay silent
In Death;
Dust will not judge –
Or will it?
Dread dust (the beginning of wit),
Shaken from Apostolic feet
In tomb-grounded townhouse and hovel high;
“Dust we are
And to dust we return,
And dust will inherit the earth,
And judge,” say saints.
Dust is the doomsmark
When death passes over,
Bewhispers a cross
Not sequestered in square
On a ballot.
