A veil of adamantine drawn, a drape across the sky, a timeless void of vacancy, that turns and with a sigh confronts the womb of rising day, a birth that with its cry like infant tears announces years of life those lights supply. – It gashes out—a flame of red, a streak of scarlet wine […]Read more "Battle of the Dragons"
Every eye transfixed above, the clouds proclaim: The Son of God. The very sky cries out in language only God can understand. People crowd to see the Servant King now alone, apart from all the world. The cross of law and love. Soldiers dazzled by the sight, a prophecy fulfilled. Sufferer—living, dying. Thus it always […]Read more "Mirrored Mercy"
He always rises like the sun after night— after the hours, played like years, the coldness, hurting and hardening, the darkness, stealing the light like dementia. Do not let the fiercest night take you for God will rise to blaze above the frosted hills and scatter magic across the diamond grass.Read more "Wait for the Morning"
The night is done— Our time When the sun rises on the sea And the smell of brine Draws you and me Out on the sand to run. Today we cannot run— Your night is done, And it is only me Here in our time, Watching the foaming brine As the sun rises on […]Read more "Song of the Bereaved"
The same wind blows the smell of burning ashes back to the dead, back to the stones. – Busy, crawling worker ants and constant spider, spinning out the web, Dreary, shadowed by the tomb— shadow of death. – An aging man sits praying in a coat, More slender than a stem of frozen ice with grief […]Read more "Sunrise"