Foreshadowing

A poem for Ash Wednesday

forty-six sunsets before

Son's rising,

eyes see a foreshadowing

once Radiance beating down,

piercing Light,

now beams fade into darkness

all that brightness descending

below earth-edge,

trails of crimson in the wake

all the more breathtaking

do ash and dust make

Day's death

O God Eternal, O God of Mayflies

O God eternal, O God of mayflies,
Shepherd, Overseer of the long-dancing
     stars' lives
     and the fleeting flame of flowers,
King of the beats
     of hummingbird wings
     and mouse hearts,
Choreographer of continental drifts
     and Grower of bristlecone pines,
Lord of human breaths
     and comet revolutions,
Are not our times held in wise hands?
Ancient of Days,
Who but You has seen
     the rise and fall of seas and nations,
     the birth of the earth
     and all the life her womb has nourished?
Who but You is the Life-Singer?
Who but You, our Beginning and End?