Upon a Stormy Rainbow

A day is coming rainbow never knew,
The which the stars of heav’n have never heard,
With noonday light diminished by a third
And sanguinary sky instead of blue;
The sea, fenced still by bound’ry untransgressed,
Is serpent-churned, a boiling, livid wound;
The mountains all have fled into the ground,
Save transfixed Zion, fractured and distressed—
The cloudless heights furl back. Heav’n’s symphony
Ceases full half an hour. The weary sun
Yields mirror-glory back to blazing eye
And sev’nstrength-shining visage. It is done!
The trembling earth herself submits to die:
Thus may her resurrection be begun.

—5/27/26

Good news! God is still not destroying the earth with a flood. Bad news: there is coming a day when he will baptize it in fire. I beg you, seek him while he may be found!

If I had a nickel for every time I wrote a sonnet that rhymed sun, begun, and done and ended with the hope of resurrection, I’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot, &c, &c.

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Originally published on Substack.