I have, on a moonless night,
turned from the dark fail
of mankind’s madness,
to look on the dappled ageless sky–
before man made God and time–
and seen no emptiness, nor God, nor time—
just the spark that gains my lively living eye.

Here is a greater thing than faith:
from dust of stars we came
and to them we return.
Whether wrapped in clouds of God and glory
or a simple shroud of linen and earthy clay—
Does it matter? Have we not had
(despite all the Madness we make)
this dark and Holy sky?

Astral