Tag: poem

The tentacles of wealth and domination words responding to David Olusoga’s ‘Empire’

The tentacles of wealth and domination

On the 9th November 2025 at 00:33 I wrote these words in response to David Olusoga’s first episode of his series on BBC television – Empire – where he  tells the story of the British Empire, from its origins under Elizabeth I to the establishment of colonies in America, the Caribbean and India.*

The tentacles of wealth and domination
exploit the poor and elevate the rich, 
the seats of power are turning in an instant
are sliding, twisting, now about to switch.

We mirror history in each word and action, 
again we turn our values upside down.
If this is love we're cynical and empty, 
the face of God is creased into a frown.

God's people what has happened to the gospel, 
the grace that we accepted, now refused, 
the love in which God holds us lies polluted, 
the neighbours with Christ's face we have abused.

When will we turn again toward the beauty, 
accept the loving kindness of God's care, 
before us lies the world and all its riches, 
sufficient for our needs if we would share.

© Andrew Pratt 9/11/2025
*https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m002hytj 

Christians may compare what Olusoga has depicted with the 
Magnificat - 

Luke 1: 51-53
51 He has shown strength with his arm;
    he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts.
52 He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
    and lifted up the lowly;
53 he has filled the hungry with good things,
    and sent the rich away empty.

Humanity in harmony?

Humanity in harmony?

Human in harmony?
Yet we have broken peace with our anger, 
best left unspoken.

God, help us share as one in humanity
Cool us, calm us centre our sanity.

One earth: 
our cradle of nature and nurture.

Sharing one goal, 
each neighbour, each searcher: 

home of existence destroyed at our peril: 
Crisis?  Destruction? Goodness or evil?

God, give us the courage to love one another,
sister and mother, 
father and brother;
now hold us in anguish and catch those who fall, 
Ground of our being and parent of all.

© Andrew Pratt 4/10/2025 Please use freely with acknowledgment.

Use for reflection or responsorially.



We dare not risk forgetfulness

We dare not risk forgetfulness,

the eyes where light has been extinguished,

the gathered limbs and shattered bones,

that hone the memory, shatter hope.

The shadows lengthen, colour fades.

 

What now?

 

The choice is ours.

 

This turning of the year:

forgiving fault

can we renew relationships

or, festering, lurch onward into hell?

 

The choice is yours, is ours, is mine…

 

choose life…perhaps?

Copyright Andrew Pratt 2023

 

Easter hymn – We cannot speculate, or glance

An empty tomb is just empty. It took a meeting with Jesus to convince a woman, then a group of men that Jesus, who had died on a cross, was alive. It is still difficult to believe. Yet after two thousand years, whatever we believe, as Geoffrey Best has written on Facebook, ‘…in this (hi)story is the revelation of the very nature of God, a God who takes all that we throw and absorbs and transforms the dead and deadly into life abundant .... if we let it!’ Amen!

1	We cannot speculate, or glance 
	into the well of history. 
	Nor can we look beyond this time 
	with any sense of certainty. 
	We only have our faith and hope, 
	to make us stand, to help us cope.
	
2	Great God we grasp at straws of faith,
	of things we hope will point to you. 
	We read the ancient texts and scan 
	those distant myths to make them new. 
	And all the time we live between 
	these metaphors and what is seen.
	
3	The past is gone, we cannot hear 
	more than an echo down the age. 
	And what is still to come we fear; 
	we see each other's pent up rage.
	Yet what we need is close at hand, 
	your present love in every land.
	
4	True resurrection brings to bear 
	the things that heal, create, unite. 
	Love launches its triumphant praise 
	and builds on joy and will delight.
	The former things are passed away, 
	dead night transformed to brightest day.

Metre: 8 8 8 8 8 8 Tune: ABINGDON
Andrew E Pratt (born 1948) Words © 2015 © Stainer & Bell Ltd, London, England copyright@stainer.co.uk . Please include any reproduction for local church use on your CCL Licence returns. All wider and any commercial use requires prior application to Stainer & Bell Ltd.

Art © Andrew Pratt 2022