The realm of the archangel is down the telescope and back through the eye. In vast reverse cosmos dwell guardian cherubim, seraphim that cry out, cloud and fiery pillar and burning bush, thunder at Sinai, at baptism in the Jordan. Knowing this can turn a cathedral inside out, make a solemn bow into a genuflection of the heart, revealing as the rail is approached, Altar brought to Eucharist, what Christ tries to tell through the unlikely vehicle of apostles. The whole kingdom in there, walls of Zion breached and rebuilt in a day, temples within temples hung with the train of one robe, coals, tongs, many-winged acolytes, apocalyptic beasts reduplicating voice, horn and eye, old whore of Babylon and Job's accuser. Part the veil of shifting sound and light, thought, rehearsal and memory. Your own breath draws it aside. Turn into silent stillness and fall headlong. God never leaves and you knew the address all along. |
| |