never seen anything like it in all my life
the man in the ball cap said
coffee steam rising
floating over Main Street
even as flood waters receded
still
*
the only way I could get out of town was the old highway
his buddy said
then gulped down a scorching swig of his own bean juice
*
hard to find those old highways
these days
we’ve strayed so far from the grace of
worn tried and true paths
*
if ever there was a time for groaning
it is
now
for a way out of town
a way to dodge
the bullets
*
the crescendoing groan for Eden
for weeping in the streets to be of joy and
not lament
*
if ever there was a time to groan
it is now
for no other sound captures the rending of hearts except that
perhaps of a mourning dove
unassuming prophet
perched on a rooftop in the early hours
*
even the rocks
carved with names
(((too soon)))
etched
cry out
*
mercy
mercy
mercy
*****
“Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him . . . “
Job 13:15 NIV
*****
