The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved.

The harvest is past,

the summer is ended,

and we are not saved.

Jeremiah 8:20

The season for salvation

came and apparently passed

with no-one noticing.

We were distracted, captivated

by the wonder and glory

of the collective reflections

in our gazing pool. There is darkness

all around; still it does not bother us

whilst there is even the palest light,

flickering yet sufficient to see our own

beautiful but blinkered eyes.

There was, supposedly, a season

for repentance, too;

but for that to have been effective

there needed to be an acknowledgement

of darkness’s reality,

and we would rather not know.

Anxiously feigning bravado,

we gather in our harvest

and boast about its yield,

blissfully unaware of its bitter nature.

The summer has ended,

and our time of harvest moves

inexorably to a Narnian winter,

wherein we will whisper the rumours

of Gilead’s springtime promise

with yearning, tears

and lamentation.

© 2010 Ken Rookes