The consolation of Simeon and Anna

The tilted earth
the crooked world
progresses on its pilgrim path
each moment comes connected to the last

the swallow has built of mud
a home above the crown of a temple colonnade
to lay young
dawn alights from height to height

consolation rests on these who have aged
half-cracked by reckless hope,
by clinging with both hands to an impossible thing
people from whose conversation
passers-by find the quickest exit

consolation like a fair morning
after days of rain in the hills
rain on high places
running down deep scars
thundering through dry beds
livening

as if an endless, weary orbit were suddenly to be made straight
as if everything you ever sought were brought past where you sat

as if in the lightning and the storm of Sinai
the terror wailing across an Egyptian night
the cloud, the fire, blinding glory
is a father, a mother-love rendered by a child 

in whose image is your own

His glory will appear upon you

The streetlight flicks on

in the first dusk, its usual slight halo,
knocked loose by the pelting flakes,
forming like a light cone borne
by snow to the earth
the whole host descending
from lost nations 

from the dark sky
from an unnumbered place
what is a morning
but a sighting of one star
at its rising?
what is waking
but a journey across sand
laden with the last perfumes of sleep?

last night's snow found enough warmth
to coat this tree
from stump to twig
with a thin wall of ice

locked against the dawn
whose light though sounds it with a tone of bells
and all the branches to a thin place 

as if with portals shine:

the glory of the Lord has risen 
upon you
arise, shine for your light has come

the mystery of illumination 

the provision of a place to hold the light

though heavily it wears
on barren winter limbs--
transform this crooked tree 

transplant from a holy city and

the shine of it
the telling of the shine of it

like myrrh

in unction, 

but this gift

of frankincense the wafting

the lift of scent off its burning 
shine-spent 

weightless and unnumbered
the sun will no more be your light by day;
by night
you will not need 
the brightness of the moon; but over you 

the Lord will rise 

and His glory
will appear
upon you.