The Moon Rose Slowly

 

Lifted up, Brazen green, through serpentine clouds’ erie calm,

Unscrolled on rooftops, deserted garden, and trampled palm,

That shadow that is light; only angel of death tonight

Is this milky unmatter vis’ting un-marked mansions; ti(e)de,

feel        it      fall.

 

Drawn Silver line, thru single crack in Skull-

rock tomb on a corpse cold as the cave;

No pulse to distinguish God from Ground

And on it our hearts break,

On it our final forecast,

On it the moon rose slowly.

 

The Gold sun gone down forever, dead for the day of rest,

With a Father’s heavy wait, while the Spirit works unseen

Did the Creator feel his heart stop. to see this day when

the Sustainer of the universe, unperfumed, would sus-

pend     his     power

 

And Keep It Holy