A Vandal Tore a Hole in the Sky by Thomas Martin Sobottke


A Vandal tore a hole in the sky.
It was just a thin tear in the fabric they said.

But we knew the truth and the presence of the great lie.

All the world’s pent up wrongs
The oppression of a thousand kings,
fear and death manifest,
gravitated to the tear.

A foggy black mass slid and slithered its way above
as billions of upturned faces
watched with expression of witnessing
a head-on train wreck.

Bolts of lightning snapped from the ground.
A deep howling madness as if thunder
rolled over the hills, fields, valleys and streams
Sun, Moon, and Stars in their courses vanish as
the wail of a trumpet not heard since Jericho boomed above it all.

Then, the greatest stillness ever felt.

Birdsong, a blinding comforting great light engulfed creation.
Profound peace.
Love unbounding, unbreakable.

Just like the time after father died
when he appeared at the foot of my bed
and then bending low lovingly kissed my forehead
and told me everything would be alright.

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