All Things New
Subjected to futility,
poor Eden now must wait.
Misunderstanding deity,
she’s put upon of late.
Imagining she’s mother now,
she suffers little ones.
Her clarity won’t be restored
until again He comes.
A mix of rage and bitterness,
the storms brew on her brow.
With wounded pride, her maker chides,
trapped in the here and now.
But is her world so different
from our corrupted view?
Her gown, like ours, from red blooms white,
when He makes all things new…
————-
for the Robert Frost’s Nothing Gold Can Stay Poetry Contest
sponsored by JCB Brul
written on 02/22/2023
Copyright © Jeff Kyser | Year Posted 2023
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