RELIGION Poem: Sirens and Trumpets, by Mitchell Main

When it’s all over,
thank the Lord for the exposure.
For tumult on soil, camouflaged soldiers —
infants in torture, and deafening culture.

For suits spewing sludge, clad in magnanimous awe,
punching the button to enact martial law.
Will we all spring? Or have we seen fall?
Give us discernment to note You above all.

We’re agents of will, we hunt for what’s true —
ignorant of the barrier we’re called to break through.
Thank You…
for each truth, though troubled, received by the few
fortunate enough to forfeit life at the pew.

Author: poetryfest

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