The sun strikes a man-made world. Car horns
scream like frightful armies and buildings
jut like mountains with God’s natural ones
destroyed. Animals from different continents
claw at bricks and nets and glass, searching
for familiar homes while
children poke and prod
and gape and guffaw, for
they have all they want. The earth
quakes with dams man fills too full. When the sun
sets, man lights his own.
Halogen bulbs and street lamps
pollute the nighttime sky.
Yet in the center of this mess, the sun beams over the last perfect river.
Lush skyscraping trees shade wildlife on the bank.
A solitary man wades, fighting the insistent current.
With eyes closed, he repulses like a dual-poled magnet the chaos just beyond.
He furrows his brow and solemnly pleads to God to reverse the sacred current and
renew His sacred world.
The man opens fervent eyes.
Just beyond, smoke
erupts from concrete volcanoes which man constructed in dirt. Soot
clouds the sky and covers cars, buildings, zoos. Lights
quit. Streets
darken. Stars begin to shine,
but the solitary man
watches as the smog
obliterates his sun.
His river no longer sparkles but turns an ominous gray.
His tears ignite with rage and join the river in its trail, while behind him
blare angry horns and laughing kids and desperate animals.
The man cried to God: Was peace but an ideal scratched in sand? But as the flood
came, he knew
At least, at last, He had seized man’s power.
scream like frightful armies and buildings
jut like mountains with God’s natural ones
destroyed. Animals from different continents
claw at bricks and nets and glass, searching
for familiar homes while
children poke and prod
and gape and guffaw, for
they have all they want. The earth
quakes with dams man fills too full. When the sun
sets, man lights his own.
Halogen bulbs and street lamps
pollute the nighttime sky.
Yet in the center of this mess, the sun beams over the last perfect river.
Lush skyscraping trees shade wildlife on the bank.
A solitary man wades, fighting the insistent current.
With eyes closed, he repulses like a dual-poled magnet the chaos just beyond.
He furrows his brow and solemnly pleads to God to reverse the sacred current and
renew His sacred world.
The man opens fervent eyes.
Just beyond, smoke
erupts from concrete volcanoes which man constructed in dirt. Soot
clouds the sky and covers cars, buildings, zoos. Lights
quit. Streets
darken. Stars begin to shine,
but the solitary man
watches as the smog
obliterates his sun.
His river no longer sparkles but turns an ominous gray.
His tears ignite with rage and join the river in its trail, while behind him
blare angry horns and laughing kids and desperate animals.
The man cried to God: Was peace but an ideal scratched in sand? But as the flood
came, he knew
At least, at last, He had seized man’s power.