It Will Happen

It will be accomplished

It cannot be stopped

Mustard seed

Unseen or appreciated

Underneath the dirt


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.


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