As the dawn breaks
after starless wander,
after black thrashing,
after huddling cold spent blank,
a lessening.
A thread of thinnest gold.
As the fire rages
unconsuming holy in the brush,
night rising guardian over nation beloved,
falling furious to lick up Baal’s pride—
meat, water, stones, and very dust—
blazing into faith’s furnace
where warriors walk.
As the lamplight flickers
in the hand,
tiny halo pressing back the dark,
telling it where it stops,
showing the next step and then
the next.
As the silvery stars spread
sweeping like a promise overhead,
a billion bursts of light pulsing
through a billion eons,
each one named
and unforgotten.
As single shimmering Star splitting
open the night,
like a birth,
like a declaration:
this is what you have been
waiting for.
As the face radiant
of the one who has been with God,
coming quiet from the place
of presence, face brimful
of glory.
View from the Valley 