The World At The Edge of Time

Here we are in the steel tooth world of wealth, 

with the freedom we defend with our violent stealth. 

Right now the powerful are scurrying, 

growling and hurrying 

around their tower and home, 

scowling, with spittle and foam. 

There is a mad grab for the spoils 

from the war over the long dead oils 

from the world of rebellion and blood, 

the world that perished in the flood, 

that was generations ago scratched from the books 

by the greed experts and by the knowledge crooks. 

Even so, we are not altogether obsessed with wealth. 

We have another inclination other than stealth. 

We want something messianic in our age, 

something global and sage, 

some taste of mystical justice and truth, 

to blunt the point of greed’s sharp tooth. 

But the experts say real change takes a century, 

so we should just die and wait patiently, 

as have the many generations before us. 

For now be content with Isis and Bacchus. 

I say, one day the centuries will jam up. 

There’s no cure but God’s scarlet and hyssop. 

On one day there’ll be a great crash of time. 

After a crash there’s only sin and grime. 

But God is long suffering, 

not willing that greed should rot everything, 

but that the globe should shine with repentance, 

and no longer grow pale with the cancer of arrogance. 

God has His eye fixed on a day. 

There is no power that can cause a delay. 

Israel and her Messiah will have their say. 

I have heard God and desire to do nothing but obey. 

Raised in an infantile world obedient only to death, 

kicking and screaming against the word of God’s breath, 

always dreaming against the instructions of truth, 

worshipping with lust the illusions of youth, 

thrilled by the fear of death and always wanting more... 

I know what it is like but I’m walking out of that door. 

I want to see Israel with her Messiah. 

I want only to learn the way of their Torah. 

The noble sky scrapper looks old and hollow to me. 

Lonely is the dragon of mere human loyalty. 

Beauty and pleasure is made a trick or treat mask. 

Knowledge fills the earth but there’s nothing to ask. 

I want not to open my door to death anymore. 

It is the Torah tongue’s song I adore. 

I choose life, 

to live in the house of the Redeemer and his wife. 

Yet it seems as hard as moving the whole world off my grave, 

to open my heart and free it like a slave. 

Oh, to breathe just once a true Torah prayer! 

Yet what beauty is there 

like the beauty of God’s kindness - 

endless its depth - infinite its broadness. 

What success He creates for those who seek to obey His commandment! 

What salvation is there like His eternal Torah statement? 

What belonging like walking with your Maker again? 

I choose the hope in the small child’s amen, 

not the dirty thrill of the fear of death, 

not to die in my own pride with sin on my breath.