Like Unto Crystal

A poem from the road

Uncanny ripples in the landscape: waves,
Not still, but undulating at a pace
That's not perceived by mortal vision. Knaves
Are we. A foolish and benighted race.
Out there exists the eternal frequency,
Resounding for the chosen few to grasp.
Most men heed just the call of recency,
This wonderous truth unable to enclasp:
When every atom sings the heavenly hymn
Of Christ triumphant, mountaintops shall bow
And fill the lowly canyons to the brim.
A mighty leveling to fulfill a vow.
Celestial harmonies—for those who hear—
Shall turn the earth unto a vitreous sphere.