The Pool

One day all men will face themselves without brand, company or marquee at the edge of a reflection pool. A stone-faced audience surrounds the placid mirror. They are pressed into concrete somewhere in the city. Black and white. Historical wrongdoing could be all erased in one splash. It’s all gone. Something you skate past. Mobile shredded trucks. Files remembered no more in a place of disgrace. The frequency of invalids rotate until the needle stops. Our sport with the face mask and all the gear has been taken to court. These courts are polished with thanksgiving. You’d step over the edge to cross. Healing is what we await. Approach the Savior’s presence. The light will make you right. Jesus’ pool of blood grants us the new covenant of love and an overflowing cup. What else is there to advocate? There’s no ads in this motion picture. Not a click through. It’s just you. His name and face are radiant rays. Let’s look up to the greatest. The dove nestled in our hearts will be passed around. Mighty offensive. We become Cherry from above.