another morning you awaken from dreams
and drop into the flow of life’s sluggish
river (trapped on a sandbar of late) and
some wonder about the white waters’ rush,
hoping you’ve not seen the last of this in
our present life; Some want to run again
before the race is over, want to hunt
again the big game and find love before
the trumpets sound those clarion calls, queue
heaven to roll aside proverbial
and bring ruin to the only world we
have ever known, before faith brings hellfire
and the blood of saints manifests God’s wrath—
one more year, all want to awake to Grace.

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