In mirth lies a great promise. Wise hearts know
Mercy in surcease, joy to know the stars
Dance to the laughter at the root of things.
Fragments of freedom whirling in our sight.
It is not good for man to be alone:
Darkling this universe in which we spin,
We cannot even hear the angels sing,
Or see, with earthbound eyes the smile of God.
Yet here He is. Simple to overthrow
The comfortable theology of time;
He who created reason and its rhyme,
Walks dust, breathes dust, and knows to dust we turn.
Here streaks love’s lightning over barren skies:
Yet only one has eyes and heart to see:
The one whose heart watched o’er his infancy,
And she is still, to see what He will do.
No, not the hour, but foreshadowing,
Love dances in His eyes, can he refuse
To show the Kingdom here, in miniscule?
The dust will thirst, but, oh! Her Lord has wine.
The bread is not yet broken, yet he knows,
To what dark place of pain he must descend:
The way is cast and He shall be its end.
Yet, even now, is glory near to hand.
He sees the bride and sees, beyond her smile,
Another veiled face in the yet to be,
Love overwhelming in immensity,
Nor any tear can linger in that place.
The vessels of the Law, now be transformed
Bear richness past what any grape can give;
And all who taste shall wonder while they live
But he has saved the best wine until last.