! ! To The Bible-Bashers I Just Turned Away

They were black of course. Saturday mid-morning; myself just searching to round off that poem on praise, adequately, so as not to let down the poem up to there… They were black of course. Who else would hope to bring the whi’ fo’ back to God? … even the Muslims have given up on us… they, twentyish, I guess; he in front, she all eager friendly smile behind.. they shone with goodness; goodness that shone beyond what they, what I, would say; beyond the headline of the magazine he showed me, smiling, asked me what I thought: ‘Are these the Last Days? ’… I said, I’d pass on that; wished them my good wishes: wishes nondenominational, unspecified.. returned to the computer, now to find the poem on praise, a hollow mockery… and to the mind, there came that potent line: ‘Live each day as if thy last’… They’re probably still knocking, down the streets, gathering reactions mild and wild … I’d just like it if they – all too late - could know that for a moment, goodness met the eye of goodness, yet found no time to praise in present words..