The Just Men

The moon continues, so still.

Even during those fires in the air,

the recently passed hungry, deep conflagrations,

her beams rose and fell 

with the days and the nights.

And in all gardens,

once meek plants and roses

grow where thorns have congregated,

and where honey bees still sing.

And beyond the rivers, cliffs, and tombs,

awakened bones stand tall,

and all just men

walk in mild humility

where lions once roamed.

They meet the beasts at the den,

where once a vale of death was certain.

And, there will be no false starts this time.

©Imbler, 2020