The prophets

After Romans 8:18-25

I listened to the prophets

before they were killed,

their words groaning,

plaintive cries of what

I knew was love, ultimately,

the groaning at the coldness.

the ignorance, the ignoring

of the obvious and so

they were called to speak,

to cry out the words given,

knowing they would be hated

but they spoke the words,

the groans, because they knew

no other course except

to obey.

Photograph by Lynn Greyling via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

Groans

After Romans 8:18-25

The groans we hear

the trees, the rocks,

the mountains, plains,

oceans all in chorus groan

in expectation in hope

the hope for the not seen

for the already not yet

the groaning and hope

fusing in the river

of anticipation, groaning

louder growing louder

to break free

the river to break free

of what has dammed it

of what it cannot overcome

until its time

Photograph by Ken Kistler via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

A city consumed, drowning

(after Romans 8:18-25)

A city consumed, drowning

 in moans, streets

weeping, buildings

groaning,

a saturation of pain wrapping

itself as gutters fill, tears

overflowing

we weep, anticipating

what?

an end, a beginning

either / both

neither?

we anticipate

what we do not know

stumbling on slick

sidewalks, we wait

for sunrise, dawn

the morning.

Photograph by George Hodan via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

In the days after

In the days after the world

became new, the heavens

cracked open

In the days after the change

happened, time shifted; reality

was upended in sharpness

and piercing

In the days after nothing

was the same, cows were milked,

ovens lit, meals prepared, the sun

rose in the east, the winds blew

In the days after nothing

was the same, everything was

the same for a time,

in the days after.

In the days after no one

noticed, not one, until

the stones began to sing

Photograph by Ken Kistler via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

The groaning

The groaning

   dem chains

the groans

   dem bonds

moaning in the morning sky

   dem chains

The sound is too great,

overwhelming the soul

dem chains

He moves to open

the newspaper; despite

a strong will and

fierce determination,

he leaves it untouched.

The groans, ignored,

do not stop.

He turns his face

to the wall but sleep

does not come

until he understands

the groaning are

an indication of hope,

his own hope,

for the hopeless

do not groan.

The groanings of the hopeful

are realized this day.

It is not only redemption

it is not only salvation

it is also restoration

this day, the restoration

amid the groaning.

It is here:

this day.

Photograph by Anna Langova via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.