Ténèbres

Shadows bleed like paint on glass,
Cumulus chokes remnant spectrum,
Fading light, the evening's mass,
Choir a liturgy of insect hum.
Ténèbres.

Hills and mounds — emerging molars,
Rise and meet a sagging horizon,
Creatures cower as abandoned soldiers,
As Hades feverishly emblazons.
Ténèbres.

Primeval dark hushes creation,
As if never had there been a breath,
Body and soul's numinous elation,
As darkness presses and feels like death.
Ténèbres.

And a mist and morning's light of God,
And rekindled in the rays of One so near,
And the dew anoints the trembling sod,
And stirs all we infants from our fear.
Lumière.