Waiting for the clouds to wane-
the fog lifts ever so slowly.
From birth to death and then again-
our stations always so lowly.
Tho’ even we kings with all our might and power,
blessed with things like toilets and showers,
and little pots of mums that die slowly in the fall.
We see the message, the epitaph, written on the wall.
Fatten ourselves with milk and honey ’til life is done,
ignoring others who suffered and perished with none.
Is that why He sent His only Son?
So we can see what we’ve become?
Quietly the geese said goodbye to me today,
much earlier than I thought they may.
Perhaps it is their own little cognizant way
to say perhaps, or perhaps to say,
“We’re getting to hell out because you people have gone nuts.”
Is it more important to “save the planet” or to love one another?
Christ only mentioned one. But can we do both?