The End of the World
One prophet proclaimed that
the world was to end
while we stirred about in the yard
playing our make believe games.
Fascinated by the idea that today
could be the last, we lingered,
gawking at the cloudless sky.
The thick scent of summer lathered our souls
as sun rays blinded us
from our impending doom.
While we danced on the trampoline,
the clouds turned grey,
and the heavens showered us
with heavy storms.
We bounced with energy,
as if the water were magic.
Every shock to the mat
gave the storm new life
as the rainwater flew up,
continuously cleansing us.
With smiles larger than life
and laughs louder than thunder,
we leapt for eternity
with the rain
as the only weight on our backs.
Grace Roudebush