Portrait of the Artist as a Lone Tree
Babel at the end of the year
Revelation 18:4; “Come out of her, my people,”
How quiet your gates, O city of confusion;
your guards have gone within, to quell the cry.
Now prisoners look on, to wonder why,
and if their new-found freedom, is illusion.
Pass by the gates, pass by, and don’t turn back;
creep in the dark while anger looks away.
Be gone and long forgotten by the day;
what waits for those inside is deepest black.
Many her plagues and fierce, that follow after;
her fate was set by long-forgot decree.
Of those who choose to stay, no memory
should spoil the fleeing fugitive’s glad laughter.
Today, the king is dead; but others come;
th’eternal queen of hell is weak, but stands.
Her worship passes far through other lands,
and only for a season is she dumb.
Meanwhile, whoever wants, can now go free,
and ne’er again be forced to bow their knee.
(On the occasion of Saddam Hussein’s execution.
Ancient Babylon is in modern day Iraq, and Saddam took as role model her ancient tyrants, calling himself the ‘son of Nebuchadnezzar’. Who has been King of Babylon more than Saddam, since Nebuchadnezzar? But what Revelation refers to as ‘Babylon’ remains a mystery to most.)
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