LEFT BEHIND  by gor yaswen 

It wasn’t a pretty sight,
tho we were not closeby
(they didn’t much hang
with likes of us),
as they bubbled from Cadillacs,
gated villas and mansions,
or asceptic abodes
primed for leavings
of hasty pilgrims,
mind-set on elsewheres,
or from temples
of The True Word
chiseled in stone,
where Devil and God
were equal topics.
They rose, pink and shiney,
toward a corner of sky;
that Christian one
reserved for just them.
They’d warned this would happen;
harangued us to join them,
with special rites
and total trust
in certain beliefs
not to question,
but we could never quite
be as special as they;
tho we envied
their apparent peace
(and sometimes glee)
as each turn of
pandemic destruction
but brought them closer
to their crowning.
It looked so easy
beside our scurry
to save the World,
but when it finished
(and we’d swept the clothes)
we found we groundlings
left behind,
with all critters and plants
they’d said didn’t matter
(to them or their god);
truely wished to be
here on Earth,
and owned our origins
in Its womb
and cared about It
as if It mattered much,
and would work
–each as could–
to prevent or cure
what would destroy It,
with now better chance.