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.