Saturday, August 22, 2015

@Greenbelt Festival - my poem as we all prepare for the Festival.







@ Greenbelt .......


Help us remember that the idiot who cut us up in traffic
is a single Mother who has worked nine hours that day
and is rushing to Greenbelt to cook a meal and settle the kids down so they can have a good first day at the festival
and spend a few precious moments with her friends
who have saved hard to get to Greenbelt.

Help us to remember that the pierced, tattooed, disinterested young man
who can't handle his change correctly is a worried YMCA Hostel resident who is behind in his rent and cannot afford the cheapest hotdog on site.
At the same time balancing his apprehension over his fear
of not getting on well with the group he came with.

Remind us Lord, that the scary looking young woman
rolling her eyes and cannot stop moving her body,
is a recovering slave to addictions
that we can only imagine in our worst nightmares.

Remind us that the scars of the self harming woman,
scarred for life,
is just like me with my scars
that and hinder and equip at the same time.
And remember that we, maybe,
can just hide ours better.

Help us to remember that the old couple
walking annoyingly slow through the festival site
and blocking our process
are savouring this moment,
knowing that, based on the biopsy report she got back last week,
this will be the last year that they will be at Greenbelt together.

Creator God, remind us each day that, of all the gifts you give us,
the greatest gift is love.
That it is not enough to share that love with those we hold dear.
But those for who,
on first impressions,
make us shudder, or sigh or grunt with irritability.

Open our soul and press your finger tip right on that part,
the part to raise your love to the surface.
So it touches the practical.
The proactive.
The love department.






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