Horrific Glory, Spare Us Not


I sometimes wish... God would just dispatch his justice,
stop the noise, stack up all the bodies, sort out souls.
If He must squeeze time and earth through sieve,
sifting scent of Lucifer from spent eternal dust...
why not now?
Prolonging wound and injury suffered by the human flaw,
man's ignorance prompts us speak aloud.
Graced not to find the questions which
are proper known and asked,
I rant, without the shame which I should own.
If God would but shut me up
and every human tongue which wags;
rip flesh from well worn world by spirit law;
as cord wood, pile humanity, then
weigh the lot in balance hung on Armageddon's porch,
before the throne.
I do not know nor ever will why He tarries midst the filth
we dine and serve each other, feigning love.
No better than another one
whom is, has passed or yet to come,
I simply yearn for end of grace abused.
But God, in his sagacious wit,
extends his hand to spill himself
on angry infants shouting at His ear.

Copyright (c) 2004 Gary Brown