Post by Admin on Feb 1, 2024 22:52:55 GMT
In The End Times.
This is what every old person knows …
that in the end, they will lie.
That by the time they are old
they will have sold their souls
each for what mattered
most
at the time
ambition
money
family
ease and comfort.
Sacrificing one for the other
passion for peace
swords for ploughshares
allies for enemies
and then back again.
They will lie as they lay dying
they will not want their children
to know too much of the truth
too soon.
That life is harsh
that they are cruel
that it is not only nature
which is sharp of tooth and claw
that they too
have tracked and brought down and skinned and eaten alive
their enemies
their workmates
their colleagues-in-arms
their neighbours
their loved ones
their husbands their wives
their brothers their sisters
their children
the children of their children.
They sowed seeds of division
in divided times
divisive times
dividing dimes and pennies and cents on the dollar
they sold their souls
for peanuts
traded their souls
for beans.
I told you to buy a goat, Jack!
with our pitiful few and pitiful precious
pennies
and you return from the market
that place of soul-trading
Jesus in the marketplace
with his whip
and his fury
at commerce
conducted
in his Father’s house
power shuffles and power deals and power trades and power wins
and you bring me back
a handful of beans.
Old men, old women
throwing bodies
of young men, young women
onto funeral pyres
of endless wars
harpies
descending from blackening skies
smoke-filled
and poisoned
scorched earth policies
White Australia policies
education policies and environment policies and tax policies and health care policies
political policies
and politics making strange bedfellows indeed
with filthy cum-smeared sheets and filthy grimy hands and filthy dirty deals.
But in the end times
in our marking-of-time and our making-of-time
in our soul-trading
and deal-making
and promise-breaking
there are also
small children
making cards to send to strangers
and thereby making new friends
and neighbours making food
there are markets of home-made things
that bring riches beyond wildest dreams
new dreams
and new truths
and truth-telling
that come because they need to come
to give the lie to the lie
that innocence has died
is weak
is feeble
is powerless
and we sow seeds of peace
to grow some justice
in our new gardens.
©Karen Adler, 2021
This is what every old person knows …
that in the end, they will lie.
That by the time they are old
they will have sold their souls
each for what mattered
most
at the time
ambition
money
family
ease and comfort.
Sacrificing one for the other
passion for peace
swords for ploughshares
allies for enemies
and then back again.
They will lie as they lay dying
they will not want their children
to know too much of the truth
too soon.
That life is harsh
that they are cruel
that it is not only nature
which is sharp of tooth and claw
that they too
have tracked and brought down and skinned and eaten alive
their enemies
their workmates
their colleagues-in-arms
their neighbours
their loved ones
their husbands their wives
their brothers their sisters
their children
the children of their children.
They sowed seeds of division
in divided times
divisive times
dividing dimes and pennies and cents on the dollar
they sold their souls
for peanuts
traded their souls
for beans.
I told you to buy a goat, Jack!
with our pitiful few and pitiful precious
pennies
and you return from the market
that place of soul-trading
Jesus in the marketplace
with his whip
and his fury
at commerce
conducted
in his Father’s house
power shuffles and power deals and power trades and power wins
and you bring me back
a handful of beans.
Old men, old women
throwing bodies
of young men, young women
onto funeral pyres
of endless wars
harpies
descending from blackening skies
smoke-filled
and poisoned
scorched earth policies
White Australia policies
education policies and environment policies and tax policies and health care policies
political policies
and politics making strange bedfellows indeed
with filthy cum-smeared sheets and filthy grimy hands and filthy dirty deals.
But in the end times
in our marking-of-time and our making-of-time
in our soul-trading
and deal-making
and promise-breaking
there are also
small children
making cards to send to strangers
and thereby making new friends
and neighbours making food
there are markets of home-made things
that bring riches beyond wildest dreams
new dreams
and new truths
and truth-telling
that come because they need to come
to give the lie to the lie
that innocence has died
is weak
is feeble
is powerless
and we sow seeds of peace
to grow some justice
in our new gardens.
©Karen Adler, 2021