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  • Olga-Maria

Mercy to the Humans: a poem for Thanksgiving and Advent


Mercy to the Humans

We ask for mercy. Mercy comes.

For our shaky health, for our unpredictable bills

For our deadlines, for our broken

families our friends in need;

For our stressed-out campuses,

for our fearful congregations—

We ask for mercy. Mercy comes.


For our manifold addictions to sugar, to oil,

to alcohol, to our cars, to our guns, to our opinions;

For our indifference to Nature’s needs

for the persistence of violence

For turmoil and division for our blindness

to communities of color for our callous forgetfulness

of First Nations—


We ask for mercy. Mercy comes.

It comes in our questions in our quests

in our confusion and celebration and struggle;

as we gather and welcome a season of darkness and cold—

We look for grace. Grace has already arrived.

It arrives as a child sleeping in a food trough in a barn.

It arrives in a whisper. It arrives in a circle of strangers

who are all the same kind of broken.

The kingdom is already here.

It arrives as a wafer and a sip from the common cup.

It arrives as a moment of stillness, a space,

a pause before speaking. It arrives as a prayer for God’s presence.

The kingdom is already here.


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