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Armaggedon

There is no greater thing, than love.

For when we love

we speak with every cell that the creator within us has given.

His stamp of redemption,

His print of desire.

His created beings dancing together

under his directive.

There is a freedom with wings, soaring in the dark,

escaping the confines of mediocrity.

We must touch one another completely,

no matter the object of our attention.

Friend or foe

a tiny bird trilling

a warm faithful coat of longing eyes sitting at our feet.

The man not understood, the slap of the face, forgiven.

Nothing matters beyond love, the Christ said, not an enemies face, not the wrong done.

 

This beautiful world works hard for us

in her protective stance against all the carnage, from the one she tries to protect.

She sways and refreshes and battles uphill

the devastation of man against her shores and her curves, her caverns and her babies.

Her housing the birds in flight, as they fly to their place of knowing,

while we are still searching for our reasons to stay.

Her oceans with the lives of mystery and beauty, cresting the waves, diving to the deep to

travel unguarded and play.

Nursing their young, explosions of color and teeming with light.

God saw it was good, in the beginning of life.

We have only our lips and the desire to protect her. Our shouts of warning are buried under

mountains of greed, sludge in the arteries of glory in the highest. His created earth.

We cannot slay the dragon that will not be restrained.

We just sit on her, on the expanse of beauty, slight of hand, glorious and broken.

Bleeding in not so quiet pictures, we become deaf and mute to her cries.

Praying for her splendor and for her safety and for the hands of time to be slowed

that we might live together

without fear

in peace.

 

 

 

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