Up From Egypt

Up From Egypt
By Doug Sikkema

Yesterday I lit the fires,
Which brought our house to life.
Yesterday I fed my children
And made love to my wife.

Yesterday I cut the lawn
And pruned back all the hedges;
Yesterday I turned the gardens
And gave them crisp new edges.

Yesterday I ate, I drank,
And gossiped with my friends.
And in a quiet moment prayed
And tried to make amends.

Yesterday, another day
It came and went just so;
Yesterday, no other day,
Is now where all things go.

For now today he’s almost here - 
On wings that beat in silence
Now he' drawing nearer.  Hush.
I hear the sounds of violence.

He’s in our midst now
Quiet please. Everybody down.
The angel of the Lord is here:
Put on your mourning gown.

No time now to fix your faces
No time for books on shelves
Kneel down upon your earthen floor
And cling to your earthen selves.

For he hovers now above our lintel
There is sweetness in his breath;
He enters now into our hearts
As we consider his gift of death.

Tomorrow the cupboard will be bare
And the garden all gone wild;
Tomorrow he’ll take your wife
And then he’ll take your child.

The fire made to warm the home
now sets it all ablaze.
And that path we chartered for ourselves
Is but a thorn-infested maze.

Tomorrow, Tomorrow
You thought it never comes.
But Tomorrow’s on the doorstep now
Hear the booming of his drums.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow.
You’ll find yourself alone.
Tomorrow you must leave here:
Did you think this was your home?

---

Doug Sikkema
Poet & Fifth Business

Photography by Sarah Sinanis