“Inasmuch as you did it to one
of the least of these my brethren,
You did it to me,” proclaimed the Master.
Inasmuch as the body is one
Tuning out the least among us
Is an act of self sabotage.

The mystery of many members in one body
Precludes apathy- abominable ambivalence toward the elect.
The epidemic of savage inequalities in the church
is a glaring act of self-sabotage.

To truly thrive is to transcend temporal tendencies–
it’s measured in connection with the brethren.
To prosper alone is alien to the gospel.
In such a mundane state, shiftiness and perfidy abound.

In an age of narcissism where tokenism thrives,
The redeemed spin out of balance
by taking their cue from the world.

By minding the least of these,
and by shunning an unholy, self-absorbed trend,
We are spared the cataclysm foretold.
There’s comfort in the unity of the faithful
That other state is pure self-sabotage,
added to the drudgery of life.

Should you see a wet-looking bird,  
Pecking outside your window pane,    
You can easily make a guess,  
He wants to get in from the rain.  

Go and open the window wide,  
And let the feathered fellow in,  
Then you can give him some dry crumbs    
And corn bits on a plate of tin.  

This simple act of kindliness,  
And seeing him picking his food,    
Will have you more than satisfied,  
And leave you feeling very good.  

And the wet bird that cannot speak,  
Will no longer be feeling weak.

Astonish the world with humanity.
Amaze it with acts of kindness.
Stun it with creativity.
Shake it with exceptional ideas.
Bewilder it with compassion.
Astound it with forgiveness.
Reveal to it the best of being.
Surprise it with a soft heart.
Impress it with generosity.
Light it up with optimism.
Guard it against abuse and injustices.

Hussein Dekmak

I love to cook for you,
Steam billowing from pans and your arms lazily draped over me,
Lips honeyed with ***,
Your pockets jingle with trinkets and you stir the pan,
Grazing the sauce with your eyes and the spoon,
After,
You'll bury your head in my neck and tell me I'm brilliant and you want to lie down,
I want years of you, decades,
I could drink crates of you and only want more.
The girl with pockets filled with tissues and one hand on a book and the other on my foot,
You hold my heart like chicken soup,
Bringing it right to your nose and tasting every drop.

Your beautiful garment of kindness has been the talk of the twinkling Stars and the glorious moon.

Their chatter has awakened the sleepy sun, stirring up her curiosity, and Creating a fascination.

Your magnificent garment of kindness has touched  the planet's heart, and Made her bow with humility, reciting God’s sacred prayer!

Hussein Dekmak