This World of Woe, So Wonderless, So Bland, So Sad
This world of woe, so wonderless, so bland, so sad,
blasé in worldly wisdom, yet unwise,
will blather words of love, for words are all it's had,
and never will have else, for love it does despise.
The worldly sages sigh in unfulfilling dreams;
they build up vanities to light a raging blaze.
Their meanings are banal, no matter how they seem,
for love is flame so bright it would their vision daze.
Amen, I say to you, they have their one reward.
The only love they have is symbol of their hearts,
a snake that eats its tail, a self-inflicting sword,
a legacy soon lost to folly, part by part.
And you -- take care to love, not love as madmen rave,
but love that seeks the good, that by the good can save.
Angels with Their Feline Faces
Angels with their feline faces
soaring through the empty spaces
meow a song like godly graces;
they sport in ecstasy.
Every wing like wild flowers
sparkles with some hidden power,
turning minute into hour
and aeviternity.
Play the tambrel and the drum;
Juda's lion is now come.
Whiskers white with zeal are burning
in the wheels of love now turning,
emblems of some endless yearning,
in spheres most heavenly.
Eyes like slits of searing fire,
sparks of infinite desire,
pour out light in swaying gyre
of cosmic liturgy.
Lions roar above my head,
praising Zion newly wed.
Like a shawm for holy masses
like wind through spiring garden grasses,
prayer of the saints now passes
through angelic harmonies.
Every halo like a story
wraps around the world with glory,
burning like the heavens hoary
with frosty dignity.
Send the message far and wide:
the Lion-Lamb has wed his Bride!
These ministers of wind and flame,
moving in their spirit-game,
praise the everlasting name
of true divinity.
A purr goes out throughout the ages:
though the dragon shouts and rages
his doom is writ in sacred pages
of God's vitality.
Rejoice, for they have slain the Beast;
rejoice and join the wedding feast!
