SATURDAY

²⁰ My companion attacks his friends;
he violates his covenant.
²¹ His talk is smooth as butter,
yet war is in his heart;
his words are more soothing than oil,
yet they are drawn swords.

Somewhere along the climb up the greasy pole

The creases in his suit

Became sharp enough to cut me to the bone

.

Somehow power became more important than people

Strength was celebrated over weakness

Efficiency overwhelmed humanity

.

He sees no grey

Just black and blue

This man will decide the fate of thousands

.

Because of him buildings will scrape the sky

And on his bidding bombs fall on children

If his ends require it

.

Because each time he squashed a spirit

It became easier

And each time his ends could always justify his means

.

But there was a new covenant made

That has no interest in productivity

And seeks to win no wars

.

Rather it is a covenant for the humble

Of grace, kindness

And love