Day 3: Mid-Day

Isaiah 3

"You have a cloak, you be our leader; take charge of this heap of ruins!"

i am in charge of these ruins. i walk
on crumbled
rocks and speak the face of
God into the cracks
in
the wall, pressing electronic papers
with encouragement into
the tiny
slits, hoping they will be read
and sink in.
My city staggers,
it is falling...
There is a stench of guilt, loss of hope,
and broken hearts that hangs low
over our heads, almost shaped as a
noose.
It is menacing, with each intentional
tread we take over
balding stones we may certainly slip
and catch our necks and lose
our breath.
Sackcloth patches the past,
ashes no longer in
use, but their appearance is seen
throughout the ground down slabs;
we are covered
in dust. And yet, and yet...
We are branded by a Name
that doesn't fail,
yet we look as if crushed in failure
daily.
Ah, how redemption will turn
this weak to the
Strong.