Wild-eyed prophets lead us wide
of where we meant to go
outside the careful boxes
the established parameters
voices raised beyond politeness
voices raised to tell the truth
They shout for bones to live
for the sick to stand
for the zombies to reanimate
for the dead to rise
They shout for something new
from you, from me, from all of us.
They cry a new shoot coming
where everything was dead,
where nothing new was expected,
where the strong ruled all
They cry God’s love for the weak
to you, to me, to all of us.
They call us to repent and turn
from the way we’ve always done it
from the privilege of the ancestors
from the assumption we had it right
They call out that One is coming
for you, for me, for all of us.
Wild prophets leave us wide-eyed:
can it be true?
For all of us.