Praise of Continuance


We are already dead
that is how eternity sees us
rotting and worm-mushed
dusty and rank

what is now has already been
one life runs on forever
an endless loop, but closed off
to additional stimuli
moss and dust from burned out nebulae
our dead reel running on, ad infinitum

not my blessed hope

Perhaps we have not yet begun to be…
no, that neither

The Lord gives us
Continuance
He sits outside of time.
the Day ends and the fires begin,
the whir of Paradise sets in,
an hundred million voices praising the Almighty
(more than being nice, less so, and kiss the Son)

to annihilate all hope,
and exalt the day
(as some clamor)
seems but a tangled victory
an excuse to go on stinking
blindness unto death

Let us, then, heap coals of praise upon the Creator
for hope unto the soft Eternity
resting in Christ
the song of God astride the Sea of Glass
endless young eyes stirring in him
something more than seeing

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About Pete Mladineo


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