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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