Photo by Pixabay on

(Image description: At dusk bright stars scatter accross the sky, as the last light of sunset graces mountain peaks below.)

Time to gather the stars 

It will be time 

To gather the stars 

As there was a time to spark and place them

Each by 

Their own name 

Taken in 

Queued in line

There will be a final time to strike the strings 

On which galaxies have played their cyclic song 

The light lamps will be dimmed

At once 

A mirror of their first brightening  

And all sound will come to stillness

As all the clocks

Throughout all the ages stand still

At His appearing …….


At His appearing

At His appearing? Yet…

He never wasn’t 

And always was

And is now 

And will be always 

This age pulled back 

All those 

Things which distract 

And the amazing thing 

Will be 

That we will see 

The One who spun the whirling planets 

And imagined 

It all

We will see Him

At the closing of 

The door 

On this age

And it is in seeing 


The wide beginning


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