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.
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