The Flood

The flood never did subside, each person became an ark. Only now the creatures have shrunk, mixed up until one species carries the genetics of all the species. Fantastical beasts have arisen, in a thimble of water. The great flood is a teacup ocean of tears, but who’s tears? God has long since dried Her eyes, The lamb and the lion, (Her onetime time emotional support animals), have become so intermingled that their parts are unrecognizable. The leaping waves toss we arks over the moon and back again, leaks spring leaks - the drowning drink. We are all looking for a mountaintop somewhere, so far, only a few have returned with that long expected news. The rest of us drift on still looking for that place to offload our cargo, our menagerie of leftover souls.