God On A Greyhound Bus

Do you think that God is through with us?
That he got on an outbound Greyhound bus
and never looked back at the mess we’ve made,
the ways we’ve polluted meadows and glades,
poisoned rivers, blotted out the sky?”
Why would God even want to try
to salvage our distortion of life?

Maybe we’re fully on our own.
We’ve certainly made it clearly known
that we prefer the rewards of greed and power,
the thrill of building Babel’s towers.
Justice and mercy just rode out of town
on a Greyhound bus that is probably bound
for a fresh start somewhere else.

It’s hard to believe what we’ve done to this place,
a dream that began with mercy and grace.
Now, the depth of our shame, the height of disgrace
when we look at each other face to face
and see not a brother of our flesh and bone
but an object we’d all too gladly own
and use with cruel disdain.

I’m surprised God didn’t leave a long time ago.
The human race is certainly slow
to admit that we’ve lost direction and cause.
My little friend Pogo gave me reason to pause
in a comment about humanity’s fall.
My cartoon friend really said it all:
“We’ve met the enemy, and he is us.”

I watched God get on that Greyhound bus.
I called out, hoping he’d look at us,
and finally he turned, after taking his seat
but by then the bus had moved up the street.
It turned the corner at Fourth and Main
and I felt the nails of our mutual pain.
Crucified one more time.