Too

Holy One,
  Sometimes life just seems to have too many times:
  Too many times of violence and death
  Too many demands and problems
  Too many broken dreams and lives
  Too many wars, fights, and arguments
  Too many moments of greed
  Too many people devouring each other like laughing hyenas on a dead carcass
  Too many mountains of unpaid bills and dry valleys of dead ends
  Too many words used as swords to stab and tear, leaving hearts shredded and souls lacerated
  Too many times of awkward silence leaving a bad taste on my tongue.

  Sometimes the very air I breathe surrounds me with fear until there is nothing but to inhale pain and exhale confusion.

  Too many shadows, Holy One,
  Too many acts of selfishness, acts of cruelty, acts of indifference.
  Or is it too little?
  Too little unconditional love
  Too few rainbows
  Too little moments of justice for the marginalized
  Too few times of courage, of risk taking, of persistence
  Too little extravagantly welcoming moments
  Too few times of holiness
  Too little music
  Too few Cookie Monster moments with bags of cookies
  Too little compassion
  Too few times of belly-shaking-laughter and exuberant, joy-filled celebration.

  Holy One, make me a pantry of your peace.
  Make of me a loaf for these times of hunger, some food spiced with unconditional love for my human family who are starving for justice and someone to show radical hospitality.
  That, being some nourishment for them, I may also be filled with love, justice, and welcome.

Namaste. 

Shalom, Paul