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