She readies things.
Tidying up the basement with its canned fruit
And bleach bottles and water gallons,
Wondering if there are enough beans and rice to face the on-coming days.
She always hoped that she would be
One of the chosen, the lucky ones
Who rose bodily, clothed in the washed blood –
Snatched into Heaven straight away
Not left to fend for herself with whatever demons remained.
She worried for her people, those that believed and those that didn’t.
But with the new age coming,
She just had to do what she could.
The kings of the north and south are rising
Just like the prophet said
And the moon had turned dark and bloodied just this summer.
And now the promise land was made whole-
What other portents did you need?
Surely he is the one, the one the brothers have preached about,
The one that will bring about the second coming-
He who carries the seven seals and the demons possessed-
She had heard all those stories, all those reports of the end of the age
And now it was here.
Taking the pie from the oven, nothing left to do,
she wipes the counter and washes out the sink
And sits dressed in her Sunday best
Waiting for the angel to come to call.