Weary, Worn, Whittled Down

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Are you weary, worn, and whittled down?
You want to smile, but all you can do is frown?
You listen to the news with all its sorrow and pain.
You wonder when will we get back to life as we knew it again?
I hear you.
Yes, I do.
This despot Putin is attacking the people of Ukraine.
They too wonder when will sunflowers bloom again?
When will we get back to life as we knew it?
When shelling goes on both day and night, Ukrainians wonder
when will we see the light?
Too many loved ones have died.
For many family and friends, they cry.
Civilians have become soldiers in this war.
They are defending their country with all their might.
Many soldiers on both the Russian and Ukrainian sides have died.
All this is to soothe the wounds of Putin, who longs for
what he calls the glorious Russia of Stalin’s day.
But I ask the people of Russia to remember how life was then?
Did you have your say?
No.
It was all Stalin’s way.
When a new Russia emerged you were beginning to feel free.
You soared with wings of liberty.
Your economy was unstable for a while,
but it settled and began to come back.
But where are you now?
You’re under the leadership of a man who cares nothing about you.
He’ll stop at nothing to have things his way.
He doesn’t cry one tear for the infants and children he has killed.
It’s all about power and control;
it’s all about us being obedient;
it’s all about us bending to his will.
Millions of Ukrainians are fleeing.
Putin is driving them away from their homes, their families.
They too are weary, worn, and whittled down.
Yet, in all they are going through there are countless acts of bravery.
They aren’t giving in spite of all of Putin’s sin.
The blood is on his hands for the death of every infant, child, teenager,
woman, and man.
Putin is waging a war of psychological warfare.
While in the KGB he learned this training well.
But let us not forget there is one thing you have Putin doesn’t.
It’s something that’s within you;
it’s a gift that breathes with each heartbeat.
If we let it live Putin will spiral down to defeat.
LOVE is the present we can give;
love for every Ukrainian man, woman, teenager, infant, and child;
love that conquers hate;
love that shines its light;
the love we can share;
love that blooms in sunflowers everywhere.
When you don’t see any hope for our world;
when your life is in a fog;
when you can’t see a way out in all this mess;
think about the gift of love that’s in you to give.
Putin will try his best to have you live in terror,
to keep you in distress.
But if you show love for all Ukrainians, everyone you meet,
love’s refrain will repeat;
it will pass the test.
Why?
Because you cared enough to give your best.
This won’t end the suffering, but this it will do.
You’ll say to hate, “I’ll have no part of you.”
Weary, worn, and whittled down though we be,
we, oh Lord, will put our trust in Thee.
I’m a sinner saved by grace teaching others about it.
Posted on March 25, 2022, in Poetry and tagged : hate, love, Poland, Putin, refugees, Russia, stress, Ukraine. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.
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