Our End Times
A Response to Jessica Wildfire
Three days ago, Jessica Wildfire shared a brilliant, bleak story that many can relate to: It’s About Time To Think About Saving Your Own Skin.
You should read it.
Wildfire’s piece touches on many things: the endless Covid pandemic, the likelihood of new pandemics, our numbness to suffering, the real poverty faced by millions, the fortunate few’s blissful ignorance of that poverty, our unwillingness to sacrifice for others, and the retreat to our private bunkers.
By the middle, I was drowning, lost in despair.
Like so many pieces today, it is wide-ranging, more like poetry than analysis.
In response, I offer up this, a sort-of poem.
We feel the tug: signs that end times are near.
My grandfather urged all of his grandchildren to listen for the approach.
He taught us to fish. The beauty was in the mystery. The line disappears into the grey. And only on the most perfect of days could we see it dip past the mirror of the water.
If patient enough, we would feel the line pull taut. The tug became real.
Reeling it in, his grandchildren would wonder if they were summoning the end.
The Sumerians, the Assyrians, the Incas, the Mayas, and the Aztecs…they found it at the end of their lines, the end of their times.
And yet, time goes on today. Water continues to drip. And hope remains.