Angel Feathers

Sourdough Moon

Blight lies heavy on parched land choked with weeds
When did everlasting streams of justice run dry?
Replaced by disintegrating systems, overburdened by traitors
Dragging innocent workers off public streets,
Exiled to countries crooked or desperate enough to accept them.
Holidays drained, harvests mangled by tariffs.
Shutdown! Describes minds, hearts, and government.
I'm angry at everything – everyone's being played for a fool.
Reasoning – trying to give sight to the blind.
Plot twist – they'd rather not see!
Billionaires laugh behind walls of hate and fear
Inflating prices, rents, rates – chopping benefits –
slathering white-out over history,
While we the people call each other bigots
Squabbling over labels like starving dogs in garbage.
What kind of harvest season is this?
Do we have anything to be thankful for?
I can offer no glue to mend a fractured mess.
Empty purses, failing infrastructure, despair exploding in chaos.
Yet… a microscopic germ of faith remains undeterred.
Though buildings languish unfinished, crops rot in their fields,
I give exhausted praise to the One Who created me.
What else can I do?

23 lines, 175 words. Free verse.
Inspired by Amos 5:24, Psalms 10 & 73, and Habakkuk 3:17-19.
Written for "Rebel Poetry Contest"  and "Golden Apples Writing Contest Forum" 
Rebel Poetry prompt 2: Make us understand this poem contains the words behind your scream.
Golden Apples prompt: harvest (moon)

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