It takes all time to show eternity,
The longest shine of every perishing spark,
And every word and cry of every tongue
Must for the Word that calls the darkest dark
Of his world to its lasting dawn. Toward
That rising hour we beat our single hearts
Estranged as islands parted in the sea,
Our broken knowledge and our scattered arts.
As separate as fireflies or night windows,
We piece a foredream of the gathered light
Infinitely small and great to shelter all,
Silenced into song, blinded into sight.
Sabbaths, 2004 VIII