Poems ✍️

Sutherman's Bridge collapsed last night,
One hundred and four cables unable to swim,
had nightmares about the bobbing heads
of seventeen bodies of cold gray flesh
floating eerily, and all quite insidiously,
all whom became souls before morning.

And, I ask myself, when I hear such news,
how could God in His mercy allow such events.
Then, I'm reminded of the Gospel of John,
and the Final War between sixes and sevens,
numerals with powers unparalleled to others,

yet the former shall die by the latter
so says chapter and verse, such Revelation!
And that's when I know It's alright to smile,
life is events of gold seals and Crosses,
and because all this I believe to be true-

my rapid eye will never reason nightmare,
for I know I'll sleep well thru the night,
for God had no ''Hand'' in Sutherman's Bridge
besides the one He stretched out far beneath
the cold, dark white-caps to pull each soul-
from Death into His merciful Kingdom...




FjR-MMXVI