It Will Happen

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