Silence!

Silence!

(“Be silent, all flesh, before the Lord, for he has roused himself from his holy dwelling.” Zechariah 2:13)

Who are we to instruct the Wind-maker when
we cannot see the breeze at all?

 When did we ascend the throne on antediluvian peaks
and survey the globe. Our panorama’s are sadly flattened?

How can we instruct the creation to match our templates,
the stars move from view while we position our deviated rules
written on cardboard before the nearsighted followers?

            No, I taught no one; only the man, only the woman,
            only the image-bearers on our best interpretation.

And where is our learning? What have we assumed? While we
exhume the bodies of our best knowledge, the failure rate only
rises as we stick to our guns.

How do we count the countless? How do we dare?
How do we enact a directive when the conversation was confidential?
How do you still box the air, never sparing your opponent
nor scoring the apparent.

            No, I announced it well; did you not hear my trumpet call?
            I raged at the uppity boys who silently wait the anthem’s end.
            I put them on the spot, closed the door and did my duty to
            God and to my Country.

Silence!

The quiet of the Almighty will break ever unholy assumption.
Do not lift an eyebrow, do not look around. Do not gaze in the stadium seats,
keep your eyes on the ground. Yahweh arises and you will soon see,
everything you though you understood, everything you knew to a “t”
has been trampled by His coming upon the winds of the dawn.
Everything you thought was right, you better prepare to get it wrong.

Do not put a finger to the piano, unplug the guitars,
drop the mic, (humbly this time) and stay right where you are.
He comes to judge your judgments. He comes to inspect the scars,
the wounds and the harm your pronouncements made when you made them
in His name.

It is no different, we are all the same. We walk the straight line if
the straight line means a detour around riches we’ve gained by
ignoring the least of any of these and promoting our feasts: VIP
only.

The Almighty is roused; He sees the waves sent to drown
the bad taste in our mouths.
The Almighty is pained; He feels the sores on the arms
and feet of the chosen.
The Almighty is slow; He knows the time we mistake
for divine approval.
The Almighty is ready; He comes to make His grace
the thunder before rain.
The Almighty heals; And cuts, and lances, and finds the
root of our growling glances from faces He designed to
shine like the sun.

Silence now! And listen unspoken. He will heal, he will refresh,
he will transform, he will fix;
Listen, for He will heal, but only that which is broken.