The Godless by Kathryn Hawkins
The godless among us have eyes
that cannot pierce the thick clouds
that hover under heaven. Our mouths
have never known the ecstasy of prayer,
the heated swell of Hallelujah. We walk faster
than the solemn herds, never searching the sky
for signs of crumbling. We talk in even tones,
with dry voices that have not drank in
the blood of Jesus Christ or felt the bone-
white wafers melt upon our tongues. We live
for our children, our mothers, our jobs and dogs.
Alone at night, when all the lights have gone,
we whisper only to ourselves.
When the Rapture arrives, you will drop
to your knees and wait for your savior
to haul you up to heaven.
We will run towards the edge and jump
headlong into the abyss, opening our arms
to embrace the end of the world.