All Creation is groaning

We live in the unrelenting trickles

of a blocked-up stream,

dripping and dammed

despite desperate efforts to reopen.

Now soaking in sewage and swarming with flies

the river - once flowing -

now groans.

We live in the unattended embers

of a fading fire,

feebly enduring

despite all attempts to extinguish.

Relinquishing oxygen, fuel, and new tenders,

the fire - once tinder -

now groans.

We live in the dissipating vapors

of a smoking gun,

caught up red-handed

despite all pretended intentions.

Unnaturally crafted as a tool of destruction,

the gun - once stainless -

now groans.

We live in the long-deserted sandscapes

of a land once green,

of a country called Eden

despite all planned obsolescence.

Pandemically sapped of nutritional value,

the land - once growing -

now groans.

All Creation is groaning

hope for brokenness restored.

hope for blessings to the poor.

hope for rebirth coming forth.

hope for better than before.

All Creation is groaning

hope for renewal

hope for more.

All Creation is groaning.