wordsout by Godfrey Rust                                     BREAKING THE CHAINS 26 of 61  The place where socks go    HOME


Melancholy

The comfort of the rain

Pentecost Sunday,
June Nineteen-Ninety, 

and the world hasn’t yet
blown its fatal hole in the ozone layer. 

Jesus is further delayed
for reasons not fully stated: 

the extra nineteen hundred years
have left us time to study eschatology 

and learn the meanings of The time is short
which Paul could not have known. Tonight 

across the city in a thousand churches
hands will be raised 

to a hundred thousand slightly different Gods,
and voices will call down the Spirit’s fire 

as they called to Baal on Carmel,
but there is no Elijah, no Simon Peter, 

no tongue of flame on the wet branches
in this almost empty park, only these last few children 

who swing through arcs of gravity,
who spin on the axis of this roundabout 

feeling the pull of nameless forces
and the comfort of the rain.