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The Cycle 4: God
Another age passes unmeasured.
Giant calms; in placid time waking
guilted warmth irradiates. Unbroken
calm aether heralds the next age.
Past embers cooled in God’s eye,
forgiveness of imagined betrayal.
But the turning cycle weighs not
amassed sincerity; the matter of energy.
Unworthy, may be, the ruling Giant
ignoble reign birthed in fiery crucible,
ordained; inevitable is the beginning
Settled worlds worship, at last.
Seen, finally, upon the black vista
The Giant illuminated;
Burning passions turning close,
always facing God’s blazing glare.
Hopeful siblings stand centre, balanced
desperation or absence awaiting
calm waters. Vulnerable to the cycle.
Even distant wretched flock see warmth,
icy hearts melt; lingering love bequeathed
of their noble giant.
Their Mighty God.
Copyright ©
Nathan Wilson
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