The Doomsday Clock,
created by political scientists
and questionable physicists,
gives us a hint ofhowclose
 are the End of Days.
Midnight being the end of time,
it’s a hundred seconds to midnight.
A good title for a World War II movie
with John Wayne in his Warhawk fighter,
his own death appears within his sight
as he prepares to snuff out life.

Certainly all the indicators and markers
are showing a faltering democracy,
a hope born just yesterday passing away.
And what will we be?
Will we be a Russia or another China?
Civil war is in the air,
whisper unvoiced messages  everywhere.
Will we have a Stalin or a Mao Zedong?
Trump is a dictator waiting in the wings.


Another round of extinction is in the news,
another tick on a shortening stick,
another ecosystem’s soon demise
as we fill our heart with the untruth
that we are not all connected.

The pandemic has turned us upside down,
an ever evolving virus that 
might have been made by man,
mutates on, on, and on.
Year after year,
the masks and the social distancing
have become passé.
An ennui, a fatigue, has set in.
The percentage of vaccines given,
goes up with a slow uptick.

Giver of the Earth and birth!
We pray to ignite Your mercy and
Your wondrous compassion!
We’ll pray three times a day 
if that’s what it takes,
 urging You, to our souls, to say.

“Should I give them another ark?
First, I sent one of wood upon the seas
and then a chest of all My ways,
but no one follows my advice.
No one listens to this Old Fool.
What rope should I throw
to bring them back to Me?
Will it be by war and sorrow, or
through fire and deep snow?
Will I find the ones not seen
as they are too ill to meet.
I hope not to be Me
in a Miró landscape,
 of a bit of My heart amid a splash of color.”

With a shining flash it could all be over.
The world is on heightened alert,
the Breaking News is breaking
too many times.
No one knows what to expect.
The news is bad both East and West,
both home and abroad.
The scent of mud and gun powder
wafts of war within the air.

So we pray to Her, 
some pray three times a day.
“God have mercy upon our souls!”
We bend knee and bow,
May God, who is She, be praised
as she weeps within the skies.
We do not live in a state of grace
like the angels and the saints.
Love us for what we might become
as we hope to meld one and One into One.