Ok. So… in writing the following poem, my fondness for black and white TV will make itself known. In particular today, my love for The Twilight Zone (The original, that is. Accept no substitutes! 😉).
I wasn’t sure about sharing this, not knowing if any would get it, but I feel God giving me the old nudge. 😏
First, though, to give you the (somewhat) shortened idea for my inspiration here:
“The Monsters Are Due on Maple Street” is an episode of the show that came at a time when the space race was king, the concept of alien invasions was a major part of comics and films, and the Cold War and its uncertainties loomed. No doubt Rod Serling utilized all these things to tell his tale of an average American street descending into chaos and turning on each other after some strange phenomena befalls their peaceful existence, manipulated by an unknown hand.
Now, Serling used science fiction, but, from that, he made the much more universal point of how easily we as humans fall into the blame game and destroy each other-and, thereby, ourselves, rarely recognizing the manipulation of satan we are allowing in.
Oh, friends, that episode is around sixty years old!😳
But there is still so much of the evil it presents I can see today in the state of our nation, our world, and, especially, our hearts!
In fact, if anything, it looks that much worse!
Yet, unlike the more cryptic ending so often found on my beloved show, including this episode, I find I must ever make the plea to reach for Christ and the hope He holds out to make beauty out of this present ugliness.
And, I am also hopeful that whether or not you have any knowledge of The Twilight Zone and its often chilling wisdom that you will understand and get something out of this ramble of mine. And, so, on with it…🙂
The Monsters Are Still Due On Maple Street
The scene first unfolds unremarkably.
Just a simple burg in simple times.
People about their business quietly,
And then, comes the foreboding flash.
Uncertainty gives rise,
Through the peace cutting a
Questions beget questions,
Suspicions their suspicions.
Before the dust can settle down low,
Mistrust festers and grows,
Flows a curdling cry
To split the tranquil lie
With heightened panic,
And drive for answers edges into
A state of the manic.
Is friend really friend?
Or do they only pretend?
How to know what is truth really?
Is there any,
Or has all dissolved to mere
In gathering dark,
Frightened feet begin to race,
Seemingly without aim,
Yet tightened grips on stones
Speak more purposeful tones
As with angered heft they’re hurled,
Caring not anymore on who they heap
As long as it isn’t they
That bear any accountability for this
Instead, looking wildly here and there
For the Monsters due on Maple Street,
Caught in the chaos
Of a fear-mongering heartbeat,
Never recognizing what has silently
Is the hideous reflection of our own
For we are the real monsters of Maple Street,
Destroying each other and all we
No one else bears that responsibility
Though we cannot seem to see…
As the man in the book of James,
We’ve glanced in the glass
And remembrance of our desperate
Has faded all too fast!
Oh, Lord, I look at our current
And pray from us this unsightly
Ugliness You will scrape.
Painful though the process is sure to
Train our eyes to recognize
Only You can take the monstrous
And make something of beauty…
Oh, may we leave behind the fear mongering! May we ever recognize the truth of our own corruption and our desperate need for Him! Blessings and prayers, dear friends! Thanks for reading! ❤
If you find yourself interested, here is the full episode: