Poem: Wake Up Before It’s Too Late

The clock hands whisper in quiet dread,
Ticking truths we leave unsaid.
Morning breaks with burning skies,
While silence answers nature’s cries.

We chase the glitter, crave the gold,
Ignoring stories oceans told.
Forests fall where wild hearts played,
Now concrete thrones and shadows fade.

We scroll through warnings in our palms,
Trading wisdom for empty alms.
The air is heavy, thick with blame,
Yet still we play the same old game.

The polar caps begin to weep,
While species vanish into sleep.
Rivers choke on plastic lies,
And birds fall silent in the skies.

But there is still a breath, a chance,
A final step, a waking dance.
To heal the wounds we helped create—
We must wake up before it’s too late.

So rise with purpose, voice, and flame,
Refuse to bow to fear or shame.
This world is ours—both gift and fate.
Wake up, wake up… before it’s too late.

Thank-you for reading.

Remember there are many paths back to God.

Follow your own path,

Brenda Marie