Dawn in our hearts
And hang glory from the winter sky,
In tinsel of faded stars, clouded purple garlands,
And the robed and slippered moon, yawning as he goes.
Yes! Our Light!
Stream through frosted pains to weary faces,
And waken us from death-sleep with your luminous kiss.
The sun is irrelevant,
The moon is frail:
And the light is Peace,
And the walls are Salvation,
And the doors are Doxology,
And our made-righteous hearts burn within us
At the ever-unfolding reveal.
Yes! Our Glory!
You are here.
Bring us to the glory of
Your Everlasting There.
(inspired by Isaiah 60; photo by Linnea Wheeler)