The World Is Covered

On the death of Czeslaw Miłosz and 220,000 in the Pacific Rim tsunami

The world here is covered in cold peace.
In the bleak new winter, elsewhere
Mountainous waves have dashed countless
Bodies against the edge of the world.

I search the web, googling, googling
Finding the late Czeslaw Miłosz
“A Poem for the End of the Century.”
Saying: “Totally enigmatic, totally intricate.”

The fabric has been ripped asunder.
Grief counselors will come to numb
The horror of the memories
As if to soothe existence in that hot clime.

The thrashing walls inundating
Cannot be forgotten easily if ever.
And what of the other, self-perpetrated tyrannies?
“Don’t think, don’t remember the death on the cross”
But here and here alone the peace is not cold.

God justified Himself there
Sharply nailed in exquisite agony:
“Save me, O God! For the waters have come up to my neck.
I sink in deep mire, where there is no standing;
I have come into deep waters, where the floods overflow me.”[1]
A tsunami of unspeakable wrath
Breaking on the rim of mercy!

Endnote

[1] Psalm 69:1–2

Ordained Servant Online, March, 2025.