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First Came the Lion-Rider
First came the Lion-Rider, across the green
fields of the morning, holding golden in his golden
hands a thing of great wonder and loveliness-and it
had your name.
Next came the Provider of Birds, and over
fields white-shrouded he walked crying Mercy, mercy,
O cold winds, for these are the visible thoughts of the
air that I carry-and it was you talked then.
Now came The One Most Kingly, all unseen in
the pulse of this anciently new world, He Who thought
the waters into being, who first imagined a woman's
face, who conceived the splendor of an apple bough;
and the fields He came across were as a beautiful heart
beating within the skies-and ah, all that He ever saw
there, I have seen looking out of your eyes.
© NOW THE DRENCHED LAND WAKES