THE END TIMES

Updated: Feb 28


Angel's Landing Trail, Zion National Park, March 2017. Copyright © Michael D. Warden. All rights reserved.

THE END TIMES



Stretch out your hands


Here, at the bleeding edge

Here, at the trembling cusp

of everything

Bless the bright canyon

into which you must fall


These end times glisten

like 10,000 stars

in a midnight sky

like fine-spun gold

adorning the mountains,

all of them singing

to a vast murmuration

of angels in ecstasy


Stretch out your hands


Bless it all

Bless the wonder

of coming undone


Who is this who comes

resplendent in fire?


The seed knows nothing

of the mighty oak’s truth

but now your eyes are open

your heart broken wide

quite wide enough

to hold the universe


Stretch out your hands


Throw back your head

Let loose the laughter

you have now become

Let fly the clarion call

of the coming of the King


Who is this glorious one,

radiant in joy?


The long years

of your deconstruction

have taught you

not to falter now

on this

your final run


Stretch out your hands


In your parting, sing

Like a voice in the wilderness

Like a crazed old man, laughing:


“It’s love! It’s love!

O my darlings,

it’s love!”

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