chapter: verse

The heavens declare the glory of God,
the Father and the Marquis,
who created the right path with His right hand
then confounded it with His left.
The firmament sheweth his handiwork:

the orange-gray of a chemical sunset,
beautiful as a kiss stolen under a snowfall of ash.
Oh Hiroshima, our brightest star!
I only looked away for my own good.
To witness the beauty of your light
was to witness the face of God.

Day unto day uttereth speech,
in the bare barracks of the Polish synagogues,
among the crowded foxhole Masses,
within the Filipino base camp cathedral
where I prayed for a signal from above.
Night unto night sheweth knowledge,
which I drank slowly in rations like milk.

Decades later, we still drink revelation slowly
though the heavens have ceased burning.
The quiet prayer of ash remains as a covenant:
there is no speech nor language,
where their voice is not heard.