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Day of the Dove
Day of the Dove
On days as contemptous as these
The Earth so scorched black smoke emerged
To choke the vine, the grape and leaves
The dregs so barren the barrel bleeds
On days as marred and mired as these
The stench so high winged things shall fly
Higher than cliff, ledge, and trees
To escape said Death and rising seas
Yet upon the Hill the summit seen
A blinding light of sanctity
Where blessed thoughts and blessed things
Expose the vile winds that breath
And the changing of the air so just
From jaded flakes to angeldust
The day the light shone upon a dove
And instantly
Ye love
