Lenten Eve, 2021
by Chris Vrountas
Voiceless in the dust,
stained by lunar dirt,
stung by visions of a strangled world,
he silently raged from the cosmic desert.
Burning villages in order to save them.
Life support systems bulldozed for pennies.
Calling the death spiral progress.
Calamity at the core of
a bright blue marble in infinite black,
Eden on the edge of annihilation.
Scales fell from his eyes
as he cried
on the ledge where
Jesus wept.
-------------------
Night springs into Lent,
celestial blast
slides behind the trees.
Looking back from lockdown
we’ve munched up the
apple and shat it out,
uncertain if our world
will ever return or
whether it should
all just burn.
The world as we knew it
is passing away,
Grace whispers outside
the cave after the storm,
The first shall be last and the last
shall be first,
rising to the sound of
the last trumpet.
Chris Vrountas is a writer and lawyer. He lives in Essex County, MA, with his wife, who still laughs at his jokes after 32 years. He has practiced law for just as long and serves as a mediator of discrimination disputes for the Human Rights Commission. He grew up in an immigrant faith tradition that has evolved over the years, and he writes about impermanence, hope, and rebirth.
