It will be accomplished
It cannot be stopped
Mustard seed
Unseen or appreciated
Underneath the dirt
Dead
So we thought
Not much different than the dead we bury
While the world tramples it hurrying from home to work as if the universe depended on people
A sprout springs. Insignificant and a lot like a weed or that disabled kid pushed in a stroller by his drug addict mother. A part of the landscape. The poor you will always have with you.
I will be with you until the end of the age
A little girl shares her snack
An old widow smiles at the young couple hushing their toddler while they try to hear the sermon
Engines roaring. Machines turning. People scurrying from building to building.
An incompetent pastor pouring water on a teenager forced by his parents to be baptized
Why do I sit in a mansion while my God resides in a tent outside?
Is what adulterers mutter
The weak sprout grows
Beneath the shadow of the roses planted by newlyweds proud of their first garden
Two turntables and a microphone
The wealthiest pop star in the world talks about Jesus to prisoners
While getting a divorce
People cry but don’t change but believe
And what do you change into in prison
The falconer can not hear
The hard rain keeps falling
The dead seed rises. It’s bush blossoms. The bird that had fallen from the nest rests underneath dry from the storm.
Suddenly
A surprise to everyone
The Son of Man descends
And wall street bows
Everything before is forgotten
It has already happened
It will happen
It is happening
And behold I will be with you always
