Job

Job did complain
a little -
Perhaps it was
in the dimming
shade of evenings
gone on too
long in pain,
anguish for losses
uncountable.
The ache of
despair and
darkest fears,
unleashed again
once more until
he wondered
if perhaps he
had gone mad
and lay
coughing, hacking
out his life's blood
and hoping that
morning would
bring him home
to God.
I wonder if
perhaps when
wrath had been
beaten out
and joy had
come, did Job,
walk crookedly,
slowly up the
mountainside and
weep for all that
was lost.

© Eleanor Clark
20 August, 2015