Ralph’s Coffeehouse poem

The Escaton
by Ralph Moore
for the Coffeehouse, Dec. 18, 2009
sometime not long ago it came to us
that the end had finally come
that is: the really last end, final, zip–
as they say in greek: the escaton
because, the supreme ayatollah of iran
was in the great synagogue of jerusalem
dancing around the chanukkah menorah,
the chief rabbi of israel was singing midnight mass in rome,
the pope went on the hajj pilgrimage in mecca,
the dalai lama laughed his way through a sermon
in a mississippi megachurch,
next to the healing waters of lourdes
egg nog toasts were made by ag-nostics,
athiests raised their hands in a baptist revival,
skeptics and doubters, cynics and rebels
burst into christmas carols–like oye to the world–
it was the escaton
and governments, 225 of them and still counting,
trampled on every carbon footprint ’till it cried ouch,
and ran away to where the sun don’t shine,
except for the toes who stayed so they could sign
a treaty for the proliferation of mistle-toes
the hissing melting into kissing–
it was the escaton
at first there was an outcry by some
they hollered: abomination!
they shrieked: pluralism!
they pontificated: socialist liberals!
but eventually after some scratching of heads
after everybody got down off of high horses
after a few more deep breaths were let in and out
most everybody whispered: this is a watershed moment
and they also said: this is the escaton
and the escaton chant started up
first as simple light breathing
then as sweet happy sighing
and on and on ’till it sounded like
the hum of the universe
(would you like to know it?)
la la, la la, la-la la-la, la