Gautama Christ

The names of God and especially those of His representative Who is called Jesus or Christ according to holy books and someone's mouth These names have been used, worn out and left On the shores of rivers of of human lives Like the empty shells of a mollusk. However when we touch these sacred but exhausted Names, these wounded scattered petals Which have come out of the oceans of love and fear Something still remains, a sip of water, A rainbow footprint that still shimmers in the light. While the names of God were used By the best and the worst, by the clean and the dirty By the white and the black, by bloody murderers And by victims flaming gold with napalm While Nixon with his hands Of Cain blessed those whom he condemned to death, While fewer and fewer divine footprints were found on the beach People began to study colors, The future of honey, the sign of uranium They looked with anxiety and hope for the possibilities Of killing themselves or not killing themselves, of organizing themselves into a fabric Of going further on, of breaking through limits without stopping What we came across in these blood thirsty times With their smoke of burning trash, their dead ashes As we weren't able to stop looking We often stopped to look at the names of God We lifted them with tenderness because they reminded us Of our ancestors, of the first people, those who said the prayers Those who discovered the hymn that united them in misfortune And now seeing the empty fragments which sheltered those ancient people We feel those smooth substances, Worn out and used up by good and by evil.