Since nobody saw a solitary

finger press pause, the assumption held sway

that, yes, the action was well under way

marching forward systematically.

So contractors built contracted mansions—

self-contained, flood-plain, suburban kingdoms—

and condo towers that mimic Zion—

great, holy cities with sand foundations.

But what was thought rolling had long since stopped.

The dry land of our progress stretched between

two watery walls—a wonder unseen

by the eyes of us elect.  Now we’re caught.

The Red Sea crashes in.  Not the Chosen

Ones of God, we find ourselves Pharaoh’s men..