The Lightning or The River of Light
This lightning blue has the blues dispelled
From darkest heavens, with a peal of discord;
Then, shimmering while the crackles distill
It recoils to strike in rhythmic chord –
How variant are the lux and the buzz
Of tributaries branching from this river of light!
Socrates despises the beaming daylight
Where the value of light is distinctly nill;
Socrates delights in the thundering night
When the cries of the day are blatantly stilled –
The pride of man is quenched by a thud
Of this spark ignited by heavens dismayed.
We’ve looked in the dark eyes of this cultured maid
And have seen these watchers keep the time;
We’ve seen the blaze of God’s sparkling blade
And have seen its angle never depart –
Oh Lord, how magnificent are Your works,
The dawn is Yours and so the dusk!
“The skies sent out a sound; Your arrows also flashed about….
The lightnings lit up the world; the earth trembled and shook.” (Psa 77:17,18)
“He covers His hands with lightning, and commands it to strike.” (Job 36:32)