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The World Will Not End But We May Change

Awaken to the sounds of apocalypse: Quiet house. Distant traffic. Water boiling once the kettle is switched on. The striking of a match. The hiss of candle lighting. And my prayers…

I am sure in other places Apocalypse sounds different.

Children petulant from lack of food. Fighting over money or who gets to use the car, Who takes the bus. The concussion of a bomb From silent skies.

Apocalypses don’t come sudden. They can sound like day to day.

We run after each other Arms upraised to catch a falling world. They keep telling us the sky Is firm above, But it is slippery as their lies, That tell us nothing we don’t know.

This world is ending. Every sound announces so.

Some day we will waken to the sounds Of a new world. What will that sound like? A woman rolling over to make love. A kettle hissing. A match striking. And a child eating his breakfast.

Beginning or ending, The ordinary things are what we have.

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