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Updated: Feb 28, 2021

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


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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