Surviving Daniel's 70th Week

This is a poetic rendering of my novel, "The Disappearance of a Pied Piper."

The day of normal lingered hot
when something weighed on wary hearts.
With nothing wrong, and naught forgot
the nerves kept me from all my starts.

The night came soft with all in bed,
a moment's respite, peaceful thoughts.
Awaked so early, fearing dread,
uncertain of the many "oughts."

Just check the child in each one's hold,
then briskly eat and start the day.
The hackles on my neck were bold,
uncertain what to do or say.

First one was gone, then two, then three.
No child in place, but clothes remained.
The scream was caught in the throat of me.
The day was dashed, and I unsaned.

Must call the police so quickly now!
Convulsed I 'til I stopped up short.
I am the police in this little town.
Must call my men, to them report.

So many parents found the same
when waking up to start their day.
With children gone themselves they blame,
their brains a mush of pure dismay.

Then, in a moment with resolve,
confront I would the preacher man.
So many Sundays he'd involve
the children with "God's Greatest Plan."

But when I entered his own home,
I found that he was gone as they,
but where could this group have gone to roam
with nothing on as a "naked jay."

'Mid piles of scorpions my wife a mess
kept beating these fiends with just one bat.
Her mental state was mostly less,
'til holding her as we gently sat.

The search pressed on with naught to show
for those we'd lost behind my back.
We marched through woods and homes to know
the state of those we love now lack.

Amid the time of anxiety's search
came those who wished to change our lives
by placing machines to "aid" each purchase,
but we couldn't think of how to thrive.

Our island home it lacked the tools
to do the job they came to do.
Once registered, commanding rules,
they left for home base to return with new.

With Stan upon the highest perch
in the fire tower where he watched them leave.
Binoculars would help him search
for safety blips they'd not achieve.

When, through the sky, a meteor fell
to crush the stranger's sturdy ship.
Their last moments, now the fires of Hell
cut short their purpose and their trip.

But wait! What was it Stan, now saw?
A wall of water bearing down
upon the isle, most real, quite raw,
he radioed the chief in town.

"Take all you can, and flee apace
unto the higher ground at once!
Emergency! This water race
will swiftly all our town evince!"

"Now, hurry, All! Flee for your lives!
Do follow me at speeding pace!"
The megaphone it loudly strives
to urge all people toward a new place.

When once upon the high plateau,
the water pounded, but remained.
The town they all their lives did know
now flooded with their thoughts insaned.

Assessing, foraging to find
a place to keep them safe for now,
the band of refugees must bind
their sorrows, 'til they've answered, "How?"

"Please, find a boat! I have a man
still out in all this torrent new!"
The chief had one last first-day plan
to save a life before it's through.

A skiff once found, two lawmen sped
around the tops of trees submerged
to open water as the red
of sunset warned of light soon purged.

Their friend they found on the fire tower's perch.
Into their skiff Stan jumped with skill.
"Pray, hie we to the high ground church!"
"Indeed, I go, and with a good will!"

"There's no time left to go as we came!"
"What needeth it! To the main road, quick!"
"Don't slack for me, nor moving tame!"
Stan shouted with emotions thick.

When darkness pulled its curtain black,
the skiff now thudded on the shore.
The flashlight showed what eyes did lack
as daylight was this day no more.

The church and parsonage became
a bed & breakfast for those left.
Supplies they found, emotions tame.
In unsettled rest, they slept bereft.

At morning watch, I planned the day.
With a cup of joe in hand I thought,
For the souls, surviving, hope must stay.
They need a plan to them be taught.

The foragers must keep the search,
while others search The Bible's words.
We need supplies within the church.
We'll split the duties into thirds.

So many lost, no time to mourn,
survive we must for those now here.
Since Mom's dear friend, my burden's borne,
a plan of action now is clear.

This list is kept of things we know,
survival foods, and blankets warm.
A community will live and grow.
"To serve, protect,"we'll keep from harm.

The preacher's words in the letter he wrote,
they humbled me and bowed my head.
He spoke of Truth in the reference quote
as now we live in daily dread.

Some folks were hurt by dangers new,
the scorpions' sting, and the meteors blows.
The sunburns harmed, before they were through
with walks outside. The sun hotter grows.

I finally know, I must be saved,
if ever I'm to find respite.
I need a Plan for I'm depraved.
I know not how to make me right.

As memory serves, John 3:16
has words of Truth I need to know,
"For God so loved the world of men,
He sacrificed His Son, I trow."

"God loved this world," it plainly says.
He had just "One Son" as His Gift.
Anyone trusting Him by faith
was saved from wrath, to life He'd lift.

How do I get to be made right
with the God I've never wanted known?
For now, believing is my plight,
but hope within is almost grown.

I'm starting to read The Bible's words.
That God exists I'll now allow.
'Being saved's no longer so absurd.
I've heard before Jesus, knees will be bowed.

"A serpent in the wilderness,"
I do not know what this can mean.
"A second birth," no more, no less
not on the fence, not in between.

The Israelites were near to death
when Moses put upon the pole
a golden serpent, but in one last looking breath
forgave that one, and made him whole.

Naomi stood of help bereft,
no husband, nor sons in a foreign land,
but one who loved her fully left
her home becoming God's best Plan.

To Israel, Naomi's home,
they walked that long, and dusty road.
To seek their hope, to God, they come.
They long for some new, better abode.

In Israel, Ruth went to glean.
The work was in Boaz's field.
Her beauty quickly he had seen.
And for her good, his influence he'd wield.

Boaz, Naomi's Goël served.
He bought the land, and Ruth to wife.
In covenant naught was reserved
for as one dead, she had new life.

I had oft seen adoption's case.
The child had naught to pay, nor speak,
but orphan's status would erase
by he, whose bounty the child received.

Oh, how can I ever be saved?
I am not strong, nor good enough.
"Believe in Jesus, though totally depraved.
New birth, He bought through a day so tough."

"Unconditional Election stands
for Sovereignty, that always saves,
according as His Choice demands,
the way to Glory ever paves."

"The Limited Atonement means,
that Jesus paid for every sin.
Without a drop to waste He cleans
the very last of chosen men."

"Irresistible Grace is proof
He tunes each heart to want His Way,
that chosen souls in lasting youth
would serve Him willingly all The Day."

"The Perserverance of the Saints
gives hope to all who can't hang on.
Not one so chosen ever faints,
nor leaves the service of The Son."

This Little Nevermore Island reeled
with dangers coming on so fast.
The women hurt weren't slightly healed
before new meteors and sunburns were cast.

"The world's against us!" came the shout.
So, what is there, that we can do?
I prayed, not knowing what God's about,
but something changed, and He came through.

The Hope of the Gospel came today
when I began to clearly see
the Kingdom of the One we obey
is bought and paid, which receive we free.

Reformed the Truth, which once we break,
and now is ever made brand new.
One step toward God we never could make,
until He life in our dead spirit blew.

A new man I became with a story to tell.
"So lost my past, but now I see.
I've been redeemed from eternal Hell.
In sin I was bound, but now I am free."

New problems will come. I need to protect
the people who look to me for care.
This story of change, I dare not neglect.
I'll share it. I will with a heart made so bare.

"The future will be some new daily trial.
We'll need to be ready for right when it comes.
The best prep for these is never denial.
Our readiness needs to watch for the sums."

"I tell you the truth. We can't save ourselves
with God our admittance, He will choose.
For some, it's His Mercy, for others, the shelf,
and I cannot tell you so quickly who's who."

"But it's something like how protect we our homes.
The doors are all bolted with safety in check.
We say who may go. We say who may come.
The ones that we love, we'll never neglect."

"To see our friends be drawn to Christ
is more than we can fully express.
He's truly Lord, Who paid the price,
and changes hearts that He'd possess."

This victory was followed by
another massive change and loss.
Three meteors of pinpoint fly
all plunged near the isle at greater cost.

Our only hope was one small boat
with 20 folks like sardines housed.
We prayed that it would stay afloat
as our last home was fully doused.

We rode the waves like a bucking bronc,
'til 25 miles out to sea
the wake subsided, and we weren't sunk,
but sadness then caught up with me.

"So, who's not here? Where were they last seen?
How many are accounted for?"
"We've twenty here. The 17
are lost in the waves, and gone before."

Recounting stories, and sacrifice
we knew they in love and braveness died
the ones who bore a desperate price
to help as best they all had tried.

Out in the wide ocean with help yet unseen
were folks on a boat with days to remain
with nothing to hold onto but hope in their heart
with not much of health they have left to regain.

But when they looked across the waves
a ship was spied, a gift they sought.
Before they slipped into their graves
alongside their boat, this ship was brought.

They entered Mercy's handsome barque,
and left their gift of Grace to drift
not knowing what this day would spark,
nor th'emotions it would dash and lift.

The burning eyes of Jesus Christ
know all that ever can be known.
Great Judgment's Blade will ever slice
between Th'Elect, and lost ones thrown.

The ones His Choice are given place
on Mercy's gentle, breeze-blown land,
but those unknown in hardened disgrace
are ferried bound, a grievous band.

The Free Will of the Risen Lord
doth separate by wisest Eyes
the ones He wants to Grace afford
from those, whose goodness He has despised.

Will those removed from Mercy's shores,
yet find redemption in the end?
For those, His chosen testing scores,
once purified, He brings them in.

The service in sweet Mercy's vales,
most pleasant, joyous, loving times.
Protected from Earth's wrath-filled gales,
their work is full and most sublime.

The Tribulation of the world
did not affect this hidden isle
for Mercy's banner flew unfurled,
unfound for quite a tenuous while.

The Master of this wrath-filled "week"
felt sure he'd find some wandering slaves
to serve him in submission, meek
or soon he'd push them into graves.

But wise defenses caused his ire
as meteors, his plane repelled.
Protecting these would more require,
preventing consequence that knelled.

A man apart from God's Own Rule
is a man whose selfish heart would reign.
Such a boaster is at best a fool,
at worst a Hell-bound soul, insane.

When all self-serving souls amass
to fight against the Lord of all
their arms to earth are quickly cast
as stony hearts don't bow, nor call.

The armies of the earthly horde
arrived to fight at Meggido's Vale.
The sharpest Tongue from the Mouth of the Lord.
The Truth, His Word, caused the lost to wail.

Defeated hordes in the bloody lake
were feasted on by birds en masse.
No do-overs, nor a second take
could save them from the flames where cast.

What's done is done. The Christ is Lord.
His every foe is thrown to Hell.
"On Salem's Throne," so says His Word.
Forever peace, the lost's death knell.

The Devil bound with his two pawns
must stay in chains for a thousand years,
until again his fury lawns
the grass of man in slavish fears.

That day will come too soon, we know,
the peace of Eden's rest at the end.
For now, we'll worship Christ, I trow,
until the final dross He sends.

Reunions at the battle's end
restored most families of the town.
Their hearts could start to sweetly mend,
except for those where souls weren't found.

I found my children in the crowd
as never I had seen them before.
O'erwhelmed emotions made me bowed.
Jeff, Rolly, and Jewel were restored.

These children were now all full-grown.
My baby girl, a woman blest.
More beautiful I'd never known.
So handsome were my boys, the rest.

To find, again, my dad and pop
as young as these my children, now.
I fully see they are the tops.
I'm honored to know them. Yes, and how!

Mrs. Myrtle caused my eyebrows raised,
"a Betty," a looker, staggered the mind.
She saw my face was nearly dazed,
and warned me, "Think your thoughts more kind."

The preacher as a young man, seemed
a gifted youth with dapper grace.
The story known I purely beamed,
"So good it is to see your face!"

"I have apologies to give.
I thought some awful things of you!"
"My brother, Stan, told the truth you lived,
and these events are known through and through."

"How could you know what God would do?
You didn't know Him at all back then."
"I would have trusted you, if I knew.
My heart was blinded by my sin."

The joy of reacquainting with his friend
and colleague of those temporal years
turned dim by lives he could not mend
in the confirmation of their fears.

Two families had wives and mothers lost.
They took the Mark, and now their home was Hell.
Restored to their dads, but burdened by the cost,
their bittersweet could not be processed well.

The Scriptures say, "God sadness takes,"
that "death is nevermore, again."
The pain and sadness each heart breaks
Destroyed it is with all our sin. (Rev. 21:4, KJV)

His Majesty, Messiah Lord,
in Glory of His enthroned Light,
assigned the faithful by His Word.
His Kingdom brought in days so bright.

Yet, even with this Saving Christ
as King throughout His earthly realm.
First Sin will linger at a price.
The Enemy will know his helm.

One wonders if the rebellion last
will be at all like the millennial change
of 2000, and it's ugly past,
that needed God to rearrange?

The sixties, with their "free love" days
brought immorality to the fore.
Rebellion in its sinful displays
brings the dross of Man to nevermore.

This cosmic wrestling from the first
began in peace with the God, Who walked
with His Adam, who found his sated thirst
through food and drink. How blest they talked.

Forbidden fruit brought deadly sin.
He died within, but lived more days.
The Enemy had his first win,
but Victory would know God's Ways.

The bloodline of Messiah True
led through great kings, and a prostitute
to show the Plan that God would do
could no one sentient e'er refute.

The Savior came at the time He chose
as The Baby in the manger laid.
From Everlasting, God, Who knows
ordained His Son, the Debt He paid.

The last two thousand years have flown.
His Story is great HIStory.
The chosen hearts Salvation known,
redeemed and made forever free.

We follow One, we cannot see,
but see His Kingdom as reborn.
The next event will snatch us free,
until His Coming new day's morn.

The near-perfection of His Reign
will smelt the silver, finally pure.
The enemy will try to gain,
but his the heat that brings the cure.

The last of Sin Christ ladles off,
then puts Creation through the fire.
The pile we make as crowns we doff
shows He is Lord of The ENTIRE.

Quatrains: 104
Lines: 416
Words: 2820

by Jay O’Toole
on April 28th, 2025