The sun became black as sackcloth, the full moon became like blood,
And the stars of the sky fell to earth as the fig tree drops its winter fruit
—Revelation 6:12
Black star unveiling high in heaven’s glass.
Dog whines, flies cringe, and finches clench their bill.
On Earth all creatures wait for her to pass.
Spheres tumbling halt their turning in the vast.
We stop to gawk some otherworldly thrill,
Once-writhing bugs pinned under heaven’s glass.
The deep cold halls of asteroid ring with brass,
Humbling work of hands, of farm and mill.
Down here all creatures wait for her to pass.
This aching Earth, your home. It will not last.
One day her fire will flatten every hill.
When bright star roaring bores through heaven’s glass,
And riding in, our King upon an ass
Commands the waters still. The valleys fill.
In not so long the age of man will pass.
In that hour the angels will quake and gasp.
We must answer for this world, and will.
When He beckons all time and space to grasp
And us creatures howl in hope surpassed.