“That in the dispensation of the fulness of times he might gather together in one all things in Christ, both which are in heaven, and which are on earth; even in him…” ~ Ephesians 1:10
When the reedy voices of need and jealousy, resentfulness and greed
start up, O give me the strength to imagine the fullness of time.
What is it like, in such amplitude of ease? Will I finally be allowed to wander
in the vineyards, glass in hand, toasting the sheen of the fullness of time?
And having quaffed my first one, will there be more from which it came, streams
of vino pouring like water from a machine dispensing the fullness of time?
Look, you know I’ve paid my dues, didn’t take shortcuts, scrubbed the decks not just
once but several times, cleaned the latrines for a chance at the fullness of time.
And I hate to find fault, but I’ve had it with this culture of complaint, the misplaced
sense of noblesse oblige, of privilege— Do the mean also get their fullness of time?
Yeah, yeah— Do your best. Turn the other cheek. Sacrifice. Love conquers all. So how come I don’t get to lie in the sun in Belize, do the scene in Paris, in the fullness of time?
Summer is long and days grow short. Everyone comes and goes. Meanwhile I throttle
the engine, stop and start, clean my windscreen; I keep aiming for the fullness of time.
In response to Via Negativa.