After the Tornado

Just like that… it was over
like a two year old throwing a tantrum
things were strewn everywhere
one cowboy boot lodged in a tree across the street
the other one never found

The kitchen where every detail
was hand painted and selected
lay broken or scattered all around
no time to cry, these were things after all

Everyone who mattered
had survived
time to clean-up
and count my blessings
salvaging all artifacts or memories

buried in the debris.
Left wondering what message god tried to deliver...
I’m a good person, go to church, give to the poor
volunteer where I can.

Lord, why are you trying to get my attention
this way?

Maybe my, "live and let live," attitude
has become the problem.
I shouldn’t be so accepting
to the sins of others?

I’ve become too materialistic
gathering things for myself
instead of getting the good news out
to all souls who need saving.

Let me become like a tornado
blowing lots of wind

leaving nothing standing
so everyone can hear the message

to give praise to the every loving
god up above.