The Threat

I am sky-dark lightning bringing Christ down;
People find religion when I am near.
I am power and more than fury’s sound.
Folks have reason to run, to shake, to fear.

I might approach with a single, loud boom,
But I am sentient, all knowing, white-bright.
They are right to feel a sense of their doom.
Fright sheds more than apathy; it beings light

I see the child soldier, the starvation;
I see the bombs almost as bright as me;
I see no one seeking His salvation;
I see the monkeys falling from the trees.

I bring men to their knees, their chest, their cheek.
Run, man, run; I do not play hide and seek.