Sunday, December 17, 2006

#238: December 17, 2006

Just wait a while--we'll know it when it comes.
Perhaps sunset, a faint tinkling of bells
that grows until it echoes through the dells
and forests like a thousand warrior drums;

It will start quietly, that much is sure--
easy to miss for those not on their guard.
Some will be deaf until suddenly jarred
by that cacophony few will endure.

The noise will shake the trees and pull apart
the ancient stone beneath the mountains' feet,
and all not shook to ruin will dissolve
like salt; and so we shall be made complete
in chaos, and the mad globe will revolve
molten and desolate, God's throbbing heart.

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