The Resolution Will Not be Televised

The passions have died down some
I left them in the night
on scattered pages and tucked away in prayers.
We put too huge a burden on the Ivy League educated
Whose suits speak louder and more clearly than the words they spew.
Those suits tell of financial comfort and stability
Not the plight of the nearly poor.
My thoughts drift from suits,
Back to words that do not edify.
Words that beg questions like,
“But what does that mean?” and
“Can you tell me more?”
I find score cards
To be the focus of the morning
And think:
Do candidates even know how to answer a question anymore?
Do we demand it?
I lay my burdens,
These thoughts that crop up fast and
Fade before I can even understand them,
At His feet.
I ask Him to save us from deceit,
Self-inflicted and otherwise;
Strengthen our hands and
Give us hearts to do the work
We hand to one man to do.
God, gift me, gift us,
With the desire to do good unto our fellow Americans;
Let us resolve to touch the places of deep-seated hurt,
to lend a hand to someone more in need than ourselves.
Teach us: this is our resolution.


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