In the judgement room mother sits,
sons and daughters to her sides,
gray haired, staring fearful as God
perched before them, name tag
on starched white coat, delivers
his sentence. “There is no hope,
only delaying the inevitable.
It’s a matter of days, maybe months
not years. Time to prepare.”
Mother is scared. She cannot speak.
She wants to beat him down, demand
a second opinion. But she was not
raised to question God. Only hope
he knows what he’s doing..
The children coil and attack,
hiss, spit venom, bite back.
God is quick, thick skinned and unmoved
Only when he looks at the frail soul
withdrawing into oblivion, does humanity
skim the surface of his eyes.
It is a luxury he cannot appear to afford.
After all, he is God.