Theophany

You may have noticed that this week I've been thinking about unity, the earth and the cosmos. It took my me back to a poem I wrote back in 1982:

Theophany
by Charles Kinnaird

Holding forth and shining bright;
Full of glory, full of might.
Ever-present, never-ending;
Always sifting, always mending.

Ultimate of all progression,
Patient with pedantic session.
Unity of all diverse,

Hidden light of all perverse.

Dragons praise Thee, demons tremble

At one so mighty and so nimble;

Who sees all in half a glance

And fills all in cosmic dance.

Yet many seldom stop to wonder.
They just blindly plod and plunder,

Trampling burning bush to pave

A road that leads them to their grave.