Today, on Human Rights Day, my heart aches for all the hidden violations of human rights…
My heart, filled with sorrow
Some can see, others not
Almost none can understand
Iceberg made of tears
Careless crashes
Countless shatters
Callous people
Condescending control
The world we live in
So cold, so clinical
Yottabytes* of information
Yoctobytes** of insight
Entitled fat cats with loud mouths
Who furiously campaign in public
But relentlessly abuse in private
Violators of human rights
Warm tears frozen hard in
Raging oceans of indifference
Revealing a mere tiny tip
Concealing the true depth
I saw it in her eyes
I felt it in my being
I felt it in my heart
I felt it where it hurt
Who hurt you, sweetheart?
Who violated the sanctity
Of your inner being?
Who maimed your soul?
Who so selfishly took
That which you did not offer?
And who so boldly offered a sacrifice
You can never take back?
Sweet precious child, nevermind
I don’t need to know who it was
I know it happened, I sure do
I feel your pain, it hurts me too
My hands are old and my skin pale
But love doesn’t have colour
And compassion doesn’t age
When you’re ready, I’ll be here
He was first, gentle & kind
Heart of my heart
Flesh of my flesh
Pain so excrutiating
Discover devastating deception
Preaches of pseudo profundities
False gospel, fake righteousness
Loveless hearts filled with judgement
It hurt you, it hurt me too
But I have found the real deal
Humble, imperfect people
Hearts filled with unconditional love
They reflect the real Jesus
The One Who loves you
Just as you are, waiting
With His arms open wide
They don’t have all the answers
But together we journey, come with us
They embrace all of me, and
You are just like me
Others are somewhere between
Quizzes and dance classes
On the lido decks
Of sailing cruise ships
We are somewhere between
Broken people and pieces
On the open air deck
Of the sinking Titanic
We cannot contain this
We cannot control this
Sometimes it consumes us
But it will never devour us
One day, One will come to thaw
My iceberg and embrace my depth
He wil absorb all my warm tears
Into His wellspring of clear Living Water
Perfect, pure LOVE
Author of LIFE
In Him I hope
For all eternity
*Yotta- is a prefix which indicates ten to the power 24
**Yocto- is a prefix which indicates ten to the power -24
Your poem strikes me deeply, Lulu. It beautifully captures the contrast between visible suffering and the hidden pain that lies beneath the surface, like an iceberg of tears. The imagery of “yottabytes of information” but “yoctobytes of insight” perfectly illustrates our modern paradox – we know so much yet understand so little of each other’s pain.
I’m particularly moved by your compassionate voice offering comfort: “My hands are old and my skin pale, but love doesn’t have color and compassion doesn’t age.” This unconditional acceptance feels like a healing balm against the “raging oceans of indifference” you describe.
Your journey from pain to hope is powerful – from the devastating deception to finding authentic community with “humble, imperfect people.” The contrast between those on “lido decks” versus those on “the sinking Titanic” is such a good metaphor for privilege versus suffering.
Thank you for this vulnerable, heartfelt expression on Human Rights Day. Your words remind us that behind every statistic is a human story deserving of compassion and understanding.
Thank you, Charles!
Lulu, you have not kept the best wine— the host’s choice wine for the almost departing wedding guests— for last. You are opening the venue, this breathtakingly beautiful, website — with the invitation to your arriving guests: ‘’Choice wines will be served here. Always. Inferior quality wines are not to the honour of my Lord.’’ Need it be said that this poem touched me as one of the arriving guests to the core? This time, I gaze upon a crowd of hurting guests who tearfully, thankfully savour what you offer. Privileged guests arrive with invitations from you, but many, many others are entering through side doors and will leave the reception with grateful hearts. Like the woman at the well in Samaria, they will go back to their village and tell others: ‘’I met a Man out there at the well…and He is the Messiah, not only for the privileged but for us from whom the evil one has taken all he could.’’ May the Lord bless this well for the hurting abundantly, Lulu.
Thank you, Maretha!
Absolutely beautiful. This is art. The subtle capturing of the not-so-nuanced atrocities in life.
Oh, oh, oh for this song! Daniel, I am in awe of what you have accomplished. Unforgettable lyrics, unforgettable and haunting tune. Thank you for this team effort!
Thank you, Maretha.