I’ve already run for dear life
straight to the arms of GOD.
So why would I run away now
when you say,
“Run to the mountains; the evil
bows are bent, the wicked arrows
Aimed to shoot under cover of darkness
at every heart open to God.
The bottom’s dropped out of the country;
good people don’t have a chance”?
But GOD hasn’t moved to the mountains;
his holy address hasn’t changed.
He’s in charge, as always, his eyes
taking everything in, his eyelids
Unblinking, examining Adam’s flesh and blood
inside and out, not missing a thing.
He tests the good and the bad alike;
if anyone cheats, God’s outraged.
Fail the test and you’re out,
out in a hail of firestones,
Drinking from a canteen
filled with hot desert wind.