The harvest is past, the summer has 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 be effective there needs to be
an acknowledgement of the reality of the darkness,
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