Matthew 11:2-3 KJV
[2] Now when John had heard in the prison the works of Christ, he sent two of his disciples, [3] And said unto him, Art thou he that should come, or do we look for another?

I was talking to friends about AI scrubbing the internet for content and I figured I would test what it could do.

What emerged took one word-grief, one click, medium, and two defaults

The poem was generated in less than 3 seconds

Spooky.

https://aipoemgenerator.io/

Grief is a heavy coat,
That you can’t take off.
It clings to you all day,
And whispers in your sleep.

It’s a hollow in your chest,
Where laughter used to live.
A silent, empty space,
That echoes with a name.

The world keeps spinning on,
But you are standing still.
Watching colours fade to grey,
On a distant, lonely hill.

But sometimes, through the clouds,
A single ray will shine.
A memory, a gentle breeze,
A reminder of the love that’s thine.

And slowly, bit by bit,
The coat begins to fray.
The colours start to bloom again,
A little brighter every day.

https://www.crosswalk.com/devotionals/your-daily-prayer/a-prayer-of-wonder-at-the-manger.html

Twice, maybe three times, I have brought them inside, folded as they were, in sheets off the line

Catching them involves prayer and patience then you scoop them inside the soft of your palms

Hold them, safe and warm until they are

Back in the sunlight

This is the moment of Grace

When they should and can run free

But instead of this they turn and sit on my shoulder

As though they have found a true friend

I joke about the manure shoveled on the ark, was there a schedule? Did Noah share the load?

And less so about the cubit span

Measure the world in arm’s length units

Measure the horizontal aperture for light

One cubit for air, one cubit for sun and moon and stars

Naked for the first time

As the clothing of the sky

Rains down upon us

Haunted survivors

I remember her 50 years ago, young and pretty. She drank her coffee with cream, no sugar and smoked. I don’t know how many packs a day, but I remember the bitterness of the coffee.

She has gone on now

To another table

Leaving only the smoke behind