100-Proof

I searched
in vain
for the origin
of this pernicious
phraseology:

“Prepare to Meet
your Maker.”

This hanging
threat of
judgment
that has been
distilled to a
toxic brew and
served to every
Soul,
in one flavor or
another,
sometimes by
fathers and mothers,
sometimes teachers,
often paycheck writers,
and gangs of
preachers.

100-Proof Fear.

The closest
I came to
the roots
of this poison

were planted in a
Garden of Eden,
tended by a
Maker
imagined to be
angered by a
couple
of humans
audacious enough
to smack
their lips
on forbidden
fruit.

I know
a better story,

of a renegade
son,
probably drunk
on Fear,
who fled home
with full pockets,
only to come
shambling
back,
empty pockets
now filled with
pig pen filth,

Prepared to
Meet his Maker,

who came
bearing gifts
of Welcome Robe
and Honor Ring,
and dance
music and
gorgeous
pocket fillers
of every kind.

I wonder if I’m
Prepared To
Meet My Maker
and drink

100-Proof Love.

(Photo by Nathan Dumlao; UnSplash)