Tonight I expect thunder,

and lightning to strike earth.

We stand on hollow ground,

and night has just begun.

The sky is black above curling smoke,

    our photographs are glowing red,

        and our chests burn with questions:

Answers will come,

    but will we have remained?

For I hear fire trucks three blocks away,

    and their engines growl

        and loose bare-backed shiver moans over the streets.

Take hold, dear brothers and sisters,

    and stay close, faithful wives,

For our ground is opening in wild labor,

    and hot tears are being called forth from our eyes.

The first trumpet has sounded,

    while we were numb and sinking.

Now, there is no more room for sleep.

    Now, the final curtains open.

Soon enough, the Good Man will rise through this,

    though His children yet shiver in their blood.