The End-time Volleyball of Man (14.9.13)

“The volleyball of man is tossed around by man,

                                      is tossed to and fro –

                                                               that which no-one seeks to catch,

                                                               that which no-one seeks to pickup,

                                                               that which seems to be best passed on to another.

The volleyball of man is as the thorns baked on the crust of bread,

                                    is as the poison floating on the wine,

                                    is as the shadow of death seen spread across the river of life.

The volleyball of man passes the strife unto another,

                                    sees the contaminants flow through the sieves of purity,

                                    witnesses the falling of the hail on the crops of tenderness.

The volleyball of man tracks as a wrecking ball trailed in the mud,

                                               as a burst of colour seeping down a watercolour,

                                               as dirty ice found melting on the pristine snow,

                                               as the blood of man found soaking into the earth.

The volleyball of man succumbs to responsibility exercised,

                                    succumbs to righteousness endowed,

                                    succumbs to accountability examined,

                                    succumbs to the fear of God.

The volleyball of man is as a snowball rolling down a hill;

                                    gathers mass and speed as it progresses to its end;

                                    bursts upon a scene of chaos mixed with disrepute;

                                    renders mayhem to the fore and aft,

                                                                to the left and right,

                                                                to the up and down.

The volleyball of man is as a time bomb in a capsule,

                                    is as that sealed in a tin upon a fire,

                                    is as that screwed in a glass exposed to the hottest of hot water,

                                    is as that which bursts unexpectedly upon a scene where it has no home.

The volleyball of man speaks of a flawed character –

                                                                        not properly developed,

                                                                        not critically examined,

                                                                        not pensively explored.

The volleyball of man speaks of a temper only partially controlled,

                                                of emotions not far from their flash points,

                                                of the idols all inviting the attentions of frustration,

                                                of the love of money with all its related hangers-on.

The volleyball of man bounces to the detriment of man in the winds of lethargy;

                                     bounces to the detriment of man in gathering the losses,

                                                                                         in shedding the gains;

                                     bounces to the detriment of man in the casino brought to life –

                                                                                         which favours the other rather than the one.

The volleyball of man bounces to the detriment of man both in fairness and in fame,

                                                                         both in companionship and in solitude,

                                                                         both in wealth and in happiness:

                     when the volleyball of man crosses the line beyond which God chooses not to honour the freewill of man.”