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