(Recalling his youth as a believer in Heaven, where God gave Meaning and Purpose, Joel paints a picture of the way things were just before the world rose up and overthrew the long-hallowed God of tradition…)
High on Elysian clouds, eternal Dawn
Was breaking, gilding oceanic plumes
Of indigo and purple with the glint
Of peach, and dappled streaks of orange thick haze
And billowed mists were pouring, sun-spilt, out
On Overworld. And like the emerald glow
Of prickled spires which emanate at dusk
From old Cologne, so, soaring up (atop
A wonderhead of foggy outcrop) perched
The Castle, Crystalline Cathedral, LORD’s
Elysium: green diamond-glassy Church
And beryl Palace, in the steam of sunrise…
Far off, the frothed horizon swept a Breeze
Soft-voiced (half wind, half faded choir) that blew
The wispy vapors from the violet brume
And left them gold… In such a whispered noise,
Field, field on amethyst- and orchid-wool
Stretched out foreverward, east-west, caressed
By Mystery, and an angelic lull
That lost the shadowed lilacs in their folds
Like something precious. Time…was everywhere,
And I was still a boy, as Heaven’s arms
Held me in innocence, and all the world
And all my hopes: caught up like something soft
And wonder-full within a Shepherd’s cloak.
Inside, in Heaven’s temple, who could know
What Earth was plotting? All was still. We kept
Our perfect stations in the symmetry
Of ritual—calendric Feast on Feast
Revolving in accordance to His Will
And order; Angels, interspersed; and all
Awaiting entrance of the LORD, our God
And Father…
And then… at last… A surge of Consequence.
Like swelling music from beyond the wall…
A tide of Meaning, as it lapped the Doors
With All—made every idle chest inhale
Like realization, fall to bow, and throw
Ecstatic eyes (first wide, then lidded-over)
In blissful ah at Ah’s epiphany
Toward the entrance of the trembling hall!
There, like the reddening of an awful heat
Upon some smelted metal, tingling Sense
Spread deep significance on everything
In march before Him: signal of approach,
which flourished Purpose for Divinity
And turned all ambiance to Sign.
For on
He comes, and makes surroundings substantive,
As if the Doors that hid Him still were keys
To living’s Mysteries. He comes…He comes!
All Heaven—on our knees! The Seraphim
are singing, cherubs chanting, bending wings—
To see the LORD! to see the awesome LORD!
And, with the mystics, bask in His existence!
At last, the Holy Doors—they groaned ajar—
Striking adjacent walls to roll their roar
And rumbling, deep and echoed through the hall—
I n g l o w s t h e G o d !
And all was light and laureled.
Look! His flaming robes stream out beyond His heels
In billows gulping like a sonic-boom
Or burl—and, at His Coming, all the room
Fell low—which matched this lightning of His entrance
With thunder of their own.
Upon the air
Lord יהוה glides, as, through a choral wind
Of holy incantations—murmuring
Like bees, or women’s voices, waterfalls,
And nerves—all emanating from His sides—
God’s placid gaze swept forward like a sun,
And yet more certain, yet more terrifying:
A bearded Diamond in an aura-light
That burned…
Still, on He comes and, at His Feet:
Enigma Creatures: churning chariots
Of Mysteries—face lion, calf, or ox
(and winged like eagles)—while, like flowing dye,
Jehovah floods the aisle to take His Throne—
And the Glory of God engulfed the room.
I watched Him then ascend the silver dais,
Washing His Splendor on the burning chair
As blazing Mysteries lapped round the base.
Then—bars of light!—like licking winds, His robes—
He turned to take the thousands in His Sight
And golden view: a praising panoply
Of Heaven’s endless retinue, all staggered
In strata there: our sea awaiting sign—
Whose nodding blessing from Divinity
Would start the feast.
The breathless, gravid air
Grew thick with expectation…
Till—at last—
The Monarch dimmed: and gave the sign.
Then rings:
“B e n e d i c t u s D e u s i n S a e c u l a!”
“B e n e d i c t u s D e u s i n S a e c u l a!”
“B e n e d i c t u s D e u s i n S a e c u l a!”
“B e n e d i c t u s D e u s i n S a e c u l a!”
“B e n e d i c t u s D e u s i n S a e c u l a!”
“B e n e d i c t u s D e u s i n S a e c u l a!”
“B e n e d i c t u s D e u s i n S a e c u l a!”
“B e n e d i c t u s D e u s i n S a e c u l a!”
It sings from thousands and from thousands there!
Filling the hollows like a deep cascade—
Whose tapered fading-off, when it should end,
Commenced the Feast of Seven Sleepers and
The decrescendoed echoes of “Amen.”
So banquets Heaven.
Now, Elysium
Swells phosphorescent and aglow with Light,
As high-encircling crowns of Seraphim
Turn ring on ring, concentric and entwined,
And, like a golden galaxy, or swirls
Of the atomic satellites’ ellipse,
Halo the LORD, and gild the Apse’s niche
With auras of eternity.
…And, yet…
There Yahweh sat in splendor, Lion-like—
Ancient of Days, and amber-radiant
(As centuries of Christian precedent
And fixed mechanics of the world prescribed)—
But were there… faults? some weaknesses just God,
With a forbidding sense, was vexed to feel,
And all His troubled Powers tremble at?
Perhaps, in secret niches of His Mind
(His Apse of thought: Holy of Holies kept
Partitioned off from Seraphim and Saints,
And even from the Son himself)—the LORD’s
Serenity had been profaned by dreams
Of fear too unbecoming of a God?
Did signs or omens (recently come on)
Presage some ill or deep disaster worth
The disconcertion of an Emperor
Whose Being turned the Universe…?
In thinking on it now, I cannot say.
But, as I stood before Him then, with all
The singers of my choir, I still recall
Some awkward trepidation as I rose
To hymn His liturgy…
Just then, though,
The Doors FLARED open!—shattering our calm
And lurching all attention toward the entry!
The nestled Zoa, roused in watch, at once
Flew up from Throne their bristling flanks and pulsed
To meet the interruption—power’s chill
Ablaze with holiness as, toward the Doors,
The Living Creatures homed their hundred eyes
And lit the open entrance:
But… in flocked
No enemy—but chief defense for Him
And all Elysium! Saint Michael, Prince
Of Cosmic Powers (flanked by Seraphim
And highest of His Orders) fluttered down
From Heaven’s portals. Then, once on the ground,
The armored Legion stooped, and bowed, and paid
Their proskynesis to the LORD. This served
(And hulking wingspans bended in regard),
Light parted, and, blazing, Michael kneeled with plume
in hand, and spoke.
(Michael announces that Heaven is under attack…)
NEXT: Invasion