True tribulation and meaning muddled.
These are days that trouble me.

It is the cause and not effect that
invites our focus now.

The reversal of current flows faster
by the day as all those who burn
for all they thought that was
and evermore should be
turn so willingly
to trade sovereignty

for a booster shot of confidence,
blind it seems to the coming chasm
created by a problem-solution continuum
that seems so plausible, believable,
but turns pure Love into false battlefield 
and desecrates this sacred heart—

our home, given by grace
but seized fast by those
who would so easily
dictate our comings
and goings and
fix us in place.

This is the beginning of sorrows
he spoke about, the waxing cold.

I remember when you made your argument
persuasive as always before the council.
I remember James. I remember how
I grieved a thousand deaths before 
your death and then the temple
was destroyed. I remember how

Such silence fell upon us, how some
among us saw too late their fate
at having made so quickly a fool's bargain
in the basement where a Church was born
where money changed hands, quickly,
so like his kiss, a betrayal by cover of night.

History repeats itself.
This world fades for me.

Thy Kingdom come.
Thy will be done.