The last word has come
Early, and still, out of time,
We may think we know,
Be assured we are now late.
None earns the token spoken
By sages years gone
Who hid it in poetry
Which no one will read,
The secret to survival,
What will wake wan weakened will?
Scribes thought to give it
Freely bestowed on future
Generations growing
But books become bare, broken,
Opened only occasionally.
Reign ravages reason
Decides dubious debates denote
Truth tied to television, temptations.
The last word
The key to dreams come true,
Constant happiness, lasting blessings,
The sages held the proof
They knew the poets, writers,
Artists of all types, would
Seeking, find the answer,
Deciphering the gift hidden
Openly for ages in the pages,
The first, last, ever, and forever:
Jesus and His gift of LOVE.
© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
The last word or last words were the prompt in Prompted Positive Poetry today.
Haphazard Creative 