Immigration

[Mark A Becker]

Immigration  

A new sun rises in glory
on the fringes
of the eastern horizon.
A wary band of fishermen
look up from their nets
staring in awe  
at the odd shapes
of tall wooden crosses
laced with ropes, rising  
from majestic ships
that look down on the shore.

The salty morning mist
parts, as two smaller boats
close in from the breakers
bearing men in shining headdress
unfurling bright banners
revealing
the coming kingdom of God.



Immigration  

Dawn reveals faint shapes
at the fringes
of the eastern horizon.
Perplexed fishermen gesture
from wind-worn dunes
toward the wooden crosses
laced with rope, raised  
upon strange boats
that hover off the coast.

A new God has come
to claim discovery
of a New World…