There is a fine line between
those things created by the hands of God
and those forged by man.
Light and darkness both at his name bow,
but we – fine dust – elect control.
What will be said when the LORD of hosts comes;
That metal and rubber overcame the wind,
or steel upon steel stilled lightning,
or planes harnessed the clouds in smoke,
or even the joke that fingers chose
and smote the breath of life?
will it be said that monkeys rode the sun
and an ape nailed the Son to a cross?
The clouds shall rain their words in thunder and lightning,
the earth in thistles and thorns,
the seas in catastrophe
and the sun in darkness;
Creation will bear witness against us,
there will be no refuge.
(except in the still small voice
that spoke in a ray,
sat on the cloud that with time floats away,
that calmed the seas and walked on a wave.)
Who shall be saved?
© Denis Adide 2010