Before Dawn

Like Christ, who's always said to be coming,
The day has not arrived. The sky is dark,
And that is fine by me, as days, like Christ,
Have unknown aspects. Maybe, when
The light appears, paradise will be at hand.
The sun will shine. The air will warm.
The wife will putter in her garden as I fool
With this or that, with purpose, but not urgency,
But, then again, the light may bring a grumpy
Christ, who calls me sinner, sending me down
Into hell, where his handmaiden, my dear wife,
Has turned her back to helpless flowers so as
To torment me with an endless list of
Noisome tasks. Let light lay off. Let me
Remain in ignorance of what will come.
Salvation's far too much to ask, but,
Uneventful pleasantness is not, and I'd
Prefer it to damnation and a day which
Doesn't end.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 62 times
Written on 2017-10-29 at 12:41

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