The Ungrateful Beings

To reduce the cups
And increase the shekels
Cloud our minds like sand dust
The impulse of our hearts
Beats harder as the mass is at dismissal.
And seem to sing even louder
But before the pulpit stand the priest
The hand of God,
The voice of the creator.
Indifferent faces all around clinged to their pews
Pretending to give in to the words heard
But deceiving our own hearts.

If God should turn the grasses and weeds
To praise Him,
They would need no tutor or priest
Neither would they need to sit on benches
They would grow tall, so tall!
But to ungrateful humans
This grace given.


to the birds if this grace given,
They need not to sit on branches to hear God's word
They would fly so high
Just to touch the sky
In order to praise His name.
The nightingale with its breath taking song
Would praise Him.

I we humans could come round
From our unnatural blindness
To see the creator's love for us,
Never again will we go against
His wishes or his words.

by uchenna nnodum

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