February 1987


the skies were red

crimson borne on tears

a flaming, sky borne pyre

over empty, silent halls

silver where bloody skies subside

silent service

for a world

for a life

for a king


beneath and bright

on rain damp stone

flames entwine with lace

silent on the wall they lie

drop cloth for the God


a living veil replaces

one destroyed


as we denied the Son

the sun itself will praise Him