Cataclysmic shift.

Candidates with no faces wearing “Team Jesus” Tee shirts walk through the waters of baptism.

The crowds cheer.

Coppers click the plate and for a moment all’s right.

One nameless man rises from the water and asks “What do I do now?”

Someone cries.

“Make America great again!”

Turbulence and earthquakes,

Conflagrations in the hills,

Conflation in the aisles,

Hurricanes in the Caribbean,

Black Lives Matter and MeToo.

Meanwhile:

Jesus walks the narthex to the altar,

All the space between

Is all there really is.

But they won’t tell you that.

They want you to think there’s more.

The nameless man asks “What do I do now?”

Famous lady’s coat reads, “I don’t care do U?”

Coats of many colors lead to Pharaoh’s chambers through the prison yard.

“Break it down” says God.

Saints walk through the waters of baptism wearing tee shirts that read “Team Jesus”.

In the cocoon of first world problems

Among the fallacies of riches

Catching fire is crazy.

Casting nets is calculated risk.

We believe a lie.

Fall directly into God’s hands.

The idol  topples in the puddles of red, white and blue tempura paint.

Yellowstone burbles holocaust.

Wormwood casts through the cosmos making for its mark.

We praise the microchip that posts our position and pays our bills.

Everyone thinks it’s just grand as the temples rise.

The faceless, nameless know the truth.

Cluck the words no one can hear.

The world dances to the tune of “I Feel Fine”.

Inoculated against the unchipped beasts who starve in the gutters,

Losing their heads in the frantic refusal to the gods of empire.

What do I do now?

And isn’t that the nature of miracles after all?