Earth shakes, mountains tremble;
they reel at the flaring of wrath,
boiling like water in fire.
Smoke rises from his nostrils,
fire pours from his mouth;
kindled stones like coals pour forth.
Before him speeds devouring fire;
it whirls about him, a mighty tempest.
He touches mountains and they smoke.
Hills and stones melt like wax;
all his foes are consumed.
Drowning fire precedes; it storms around him.
The bed of the sea is uncovered,
the world's foundations are laid bare,
at the Lord's roar, the storm of his breath.
The heavens are shaken, rent,
darkness is under his feet.
He is borne on wings of wind.
The eternal mountains are shattered;
fragments of hills pave his way.
Before him goes lightning and splendor;
the earth sees and quakes.
He rains down flame and coals of fire,
sends the wicked a scorching wind. Selah.
Mountains that see him quiver;
raging waters cower in fear;
the deep gives forth a groaning voice;
stars stand still in the heavens.
He crushes the head of the wicked;
his arrows of light shoot forth,
his lightning like a glittering spear.
I was drowning in deep waters.
He drew me out and saved me;
he destroyed the demons of the sea.
His wings are wings of morning;
his breath sets the heavens glowing, aflame.
The mountains bow down before him
that they may declare his justice:
the Lord of hosts is his name. Hallelujah!
The Dragons Rise Above the Mount of Olives
The dragons rise above the Mount of Olives,
sunrise-splendid and sunset-winged,
writhing and looping like lemniscate ribbons,
soaring and searing with fire and flight.
Thought-creating flame flickers outward,
forges new steel like dragon-scales,
which no sword can cut save one,
two-edged and all-divinding, all-discerning truth;
thought-creating fire, like some solar ray, leaps out.
Nations tremble at the call of the dragons,
a sound like to trumpets; they speak holy things
and mutter the mysteries in voices like ocean,
voices like volcanic fires.
Clouds are around them, thick like hope,
wrapping their wings in garments of night.
in darkness the gardens on the hillsides burn,
silentingly burning, luminous candles
lighting a path to the heart of the sun.