The Event

by Dr. William S. Kilgore

One, oh, so devious and clever

Introduced a world of hurt.

Snatching the granted scepter,

He left us, stuck in the dirt.

Reminded every summer day,

Through our sweat-soaked shirts,

Every time a woman screams in pain,

In the bloody mess of childbirth.

Doomed before we even start,

Subjected to intense heat.

Created with hunger in our hearts,

Yet, now not allowed to eat.

The gate is closed. Is there no return?

Starting with a certain decree,

Human history marched on.

A multiplication of Jubilees,

Until a new Day finally dawned.

Daniel’s messenger from the past

Now returned to earth again.

The time had arrived at last,

With one young girl, it must begin.

Riches beyond all wealth,

Now fashioned from the clay.

The Something More, now veiled,

The Maker’s become the Made.

Is this the return from exile?

In normalcy, three decades passed,

A trap set was with the bait.

In an unseen twist, the line was cast,

There was a ransom to be paid.

From breathing into man

To the cessation of that same breath,

Intricate execution of a age-old plan:

An irreversible conquering of death.

Solidified behind a stone,

The powers were then seized.

All groaning halted, with one groan,

And a snatching of the keys.

My God. This is the return.

Returned now, the Exiled One,

Who was shut outside the gate,

In three days, the work was done,

With nothing more to pay.

Restored back to glorious Royalty

And distributing all His worth,

With promises we’ve yet to see

For both us and all the earth.

Crimson sweat, a wounded heel,

A banquet table has been set,

Now preparing for the meal,

Which is already, but... not yet.

The gate is open. The exile is over.

...

Not hidden in some corner,

But One Event, for all to see.

The world had come full circle,

Back to... a single tree.

---

Dr. William S. Kilgore is a sociology professor residing in Houston, Texas. After nearly thirty years as an academic, William began writing poetry in 2024 while at home recovering from a kidney transplant, at the age of 56. This opened a door to a new way of contemplating things that was entirely new to him. Initially writing primarily for himself, some friends and family have encouraged him to seek publication. William began doing this in earnest in 2026. He has poems scheduled for the Spring issues of Westward Quarterly and Foreshadow.