A Shuffling Up.
By london_calling79
- 1363 reads
When younger, the word of God
was writ large in every cloud.
Every beat of every heart
was a plan. A fate
unreeling. An ocean of moments
in an arrow head.
Now the sky tells me nothing.
The tales spun through epochs,
every race an inkpot,
every message sent with tectonic pace
is lost in transit.
Was there a second coup? A quietening.
A shuffling-up midst coughs and nods.
The big man, the director reduced to
a clouded mumble, Brandoesque.
Bespoke-suited seraphim eroding
the blade with
the stroke of a pen.
Outsourced.
Remote control.
Turning a profit.
Black in the ledger.
Cold mathematics
left me contemplating a glass ceiling.
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the word of god is written in
the word of god is written in the heart, that's a start, the spirtual ledger is man made and never a pleasure.
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Can't follow all your train
Can't follow all your train of thought, sorry, but it sounds like you're saying when young you accepted the simple witness of the skies that God was in control, but that seems to have got fuzzy or lost in the busyness and successes of life? Surely that is why we need to go to read not only the actual account of Christ on earth, but also the rest of the records of what God has said and done if we are really to make sense of life. That has to be the starting point. Rhiannon
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