Floodwaters

“And will not God bring about justice for his chosen ones, who cry out to him day and night? Will he keep putting them off? I tell you, he will see that they get justice, and quickly. However, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on the earth?   Luke 18:7-8

The world is dying,

I am dying,

death has become an only friend,

the final sanctuary,

each day begins anew,

each day ends,

the breeze continues to blow,

the rivers continue to flow,

the morning sun arrives

right on time;

for every season there is a purpose,

for every question there is an answer.

I see the ugliness lying

just below the surface,

the self-serving hypocrisy,

the incomplete falsehoods,

the insincere agendas,

they do not fool me;

not even for a moment;

the time begins at last,

the hour is at hand,

their great and wondrous deeds

are no more,

their monuments of glory

crumble before the wind,

the bitter taste of their demise

lies frozen upon a sea

of silent tongues;

this then is the beginning,

this then is the end;

still they do not listen,

even now their eyes remain blind,

giving in marriage and celebrating

right up to the very end;

surely there is no hope

for ones such as these.

The children of men hold their breath,

a final sigh before the meltdown,

a silent pause within the maelstrom,

hearts fail from fear,

meeting in secret places,

waiting for what is to come;

like a thief in the night

it sweeps them away;

trees smolder and smoke,

bursting into flames as

tires begin to steam,

their rubber melting

to the highway surface;

no where to run,

no where to hide;

like abandoned wells

their water runs dry,

they sit withering in the sun,

wandering through the wilderness,

lost and alone;

the day is here,

the time is now;

Your mercy endures

to the end,

but who shall hear the message?

who shall accept the grace?

when the Son of Man returns

will he find faith?

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