The Keys Please

The Keys Please

(“Meanwhile the earth fills up with awareness of God’s glory as the waters cover the sea.” Habakkuk 2:14 [The Message])

Don’t laugh, but it is time to turn in your keys.
Your rent is due, the lease is undone.
You argue your points with derision,
you settle your scores with scorn.
The owner is knocking, answer the door,
and face the eyes you thought you knew
while you squandered the minutes parading
the poor as your trophies,
scaping the land to the bone,
and intoning your personal freedom as if
your life was yours and yours alone.

Please. The keys. Now.
Or else meet the gaze that has risen
to greet you before the sun lit the skies.
Meet the first cause, not simply the effects that
you screened through your own wrinkle in time.
You moan there is no more preaching about
fiery hell and judgment,
while you know for sure you have escaped with
rapturous pleasure. You have forgotten to measure
the dimensions that extend beyond the
plot which you have rented.
You cry, “liberty”, as if it is a call to prayer.
You pray as if it is your civic duty to call out the
worst of these when you were formed to
help the least of these.

So, the keys. They are in your front pocket and
the lease is clear...unless
you are willing to hear the voice
that invited you to stay here in the first place.

Look at the window, shattered by the hurled limb
powered by the gale. It was sent to awaken your
perception that a miniscule world conforms
to your expectations.
The window is not your responsibility, but what
you see now is up to you.
Look through the jagged remains, feel the wind
stroke your face. Touch the shards with your finger
and let the capillaries bleed only enough to remind you
what you are made of.

Then answer the door because the lease is overdue.
See the face that is in every face; hear the voice
that gave the storm its name. You are not being evicted;
but the keys please. The window shall remain shattered
and the door never locked again.