I.

The owl sits in stillness; the white of her heart threatened by prophet and sage,
The jewel of wisdom glistens in eternal song as the earth is lost to age.
And fortune orbits like a flame, burning away at the hint of death,
Too tender the horror; the sound of an angel’s last breath.
To bear at flesh in sight of the Lord,
As seasons change to the swing of the sword.
Rarer than perfect love; the heart blessed by unique law,
The body of love set upon the cross in the shape of war.
Radiant blood drips from the moon in hymns of ember.
Visions of ghosts haunt the landscape too old to remember.
And the burned man is cold from a dawn unbroken,
And when the veil of man has fallen’, we know then the voice of God has spoken.
The stars like the sea vastly roar in vision and in sight,
The darkness now nothing but the heart of the night....