It doesn’t really matter what we do
in our own finite occupation
of planet earth; so one theory goes.
All the pollution and the global warming
and the depletion of the fishing stocks
and the extinction of the various species;
not our problem.
And all the refugee camps in border regions
and the ragged children on the smoking
garbage mountains and all the repression
and the fear
and the greedy corporate exploitation
and all the political lies; about these things
we need have no concern.
Because Jesus is coming back.
Yeah, Jesus is coming back
and he’ll wave his hand, his magic
Holy Spirit hand, and the new heaven
will replace the old, and the new earth
will take over from the old,
and everything will be clean and sparkling
and smell like a pair of shiny new shoes,
fresh out of their box.
Or so one theory goes.
© Ken Rookes
A further poem for this coming Sunday can be found here