Images in the Time of Shadows: A Poem

Images in the Time of Shadows

 

A dove sits in the tree of life

in the genesis of mist –

a tracery for the vale of tears –

this for that and that for this.

 

That for this – a scene of shades –

a fallen feather touches ground—

the participance of passing things  

forecasting seven trumpet sounds.  

 

As sad-eyed teachers hurry beauty

from its nest of lace

they magnify the paradox

of mortal time and space.  

 

That for this – a tag of words –

and images that hit and miss.

Who made the great Leviathan?

Tongues of fire – answer this!

 

Slipping glimpses – that for this

– for paradise, a mustard seed.

Lo, what I see through glass and tears

is this for that and that for Thee.

 

Lend us for now a jar of myrrh.

Perfume our smoky prophecies.

And as we wander through the mist

burn through our cold philosophies.