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..