“… where there is hatred, let me sow love …” –Saint Francis of Assisi

Yes, the seeds are small,
the ground hard and rocky,

all your skewed intentions
tangled with knotted weeds.

You know the tale:
Hitchcock’s birds

swooping in, pecking
at all you’ve sown

in measured rows,
their beaks unstitching

your pharisaic robes,
chipping away at the logs

that cork your eyes.
It’s time to change

direction. Cast off
your cloaks and scatter

the real across the fields
you most fear.

O Johnny Appleseed
of faith, start walking.

You can listen to a conversation about this poem on the Reformed Journal Podcast.

Photo by Riccardo Atrot on Unsplash