(x = space)

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Surgent Prophecy

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Flood

Fire,

Crushes at the border

Pandemic

Surgency of variants

Afghanistan has fallen

To a group we have called

Terrorist,

Though a while ago

Alliant in and as the

Mujahideen

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Farther east in Asia

There is disease

There is prison

For dissidents

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Sounds like end times

Too many will believe

One of the riders is

Pestilence, another

War

Famine and Death—and

We can make a case for

These

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So is this the start

Of the end,

Of apocalypse, Parousia?

Could be

Probably not

Against the march of days

That has marched and

Most likely

Will march on

But who knows?

Someone who we are not

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We can be ready

It’s not a matter

Of bunkers

But of the spirit

Are we loving animals

(and do we love

our animals)?

Are we ready for straight roads

For the coming of the monarch

Over land

Or under sea

Or through the air?

Will we have good stewardship

Reports to make

About the

Earth that has been our charge?

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Well, we’ll see

About it all

Though our part

Is ready now

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Believe

Harvest

Care

Preserve

Plant and move around

What will grow anew

And what will grow forever

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C L Couch

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Burning Down the House

Photo by Dave Hoefler on Unsplash

Kittitas, WA, USA

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