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We’re quick to stick them on to people.

Tall, short, big, small.

We hand them out like those pamphlets that are supposed to spread the good word.

“Here, human. This is what I think you are. You shall wear this around and be who I think you are.”

“Oh there you are, young human. You need the weight of my judgment tied around your neck as you walk around trying to make your dreams come alive.”

“Doesn’t that look great: all those labels, the sum of all our thoughts on you!”

Upturned noses, folded arms, the typical up and down scan. All too familiar, these mechanisms.

The ones they think will keep tradition alive and morality safe.

Will someone tell them, labelling people labels them ‘people who label.’

And Heaven somehow waits for the ones with eyes wide open with wonder. The eyes that crinkle with kind smiles and not with suspicion.

Heaven waits. The angels wait. Adam names.

And God smiles. “We can start over. For my Name’s sake, every label has been peeled off.

My blood-ink permanently marks them, Holy & Mine.”

(16th July, 2020)

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