If they do not listen

 

If they do not listen,
if the warnings go unheeded
the war will not be ended,
the climate goes on changing,
the poor will always languish,
the wealthy will never let go,
the raucous will not be silent,
kings will still raise armies,
and cheats will keep up their long established practice
by moving their headquarters off-shore.
Miners will make their holes ever larger,
generals will keep sending soldiers to their death,
politicians will compromise for the sake of cheap opinion,
the rich will pay less taxes,
the beggars will not go away.
Desperate people will travel once more on boats,
bullies will have their way,
children will be hurt again,
and mothers will weep
while fathers are immobilised by guilt.
If they do not listen,
love will fall into ruin,
truth will be vanquished,
and the memory of hope is lost.

© Ken Rookes 2013

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