The Seven Seals

based on Revelation 6:1-8:1

Believing they took the victor's laurel crown, Those bent on conquering will not stop till conquered And community bleeds its life upon the open ground, As the sword-bearer thrusts till all peace is punctured. Earth too, fights and fails us yielding only from its furrow Hollow comforts for the rich and filling the poor with sorrow. Hard on their heels rides the last in death's pale finality Consuming creation's proffer with greedy insatiability. But none of these players move without the Sovereign's leave Whose mighty arm of power rolls up the starlit ceiling Who hands white robes and invites the slain to rest in covered ease Beneath the altar of his love, in his abiding healing The beloved, tearful, technicolored tribe Stands awed in answered silence, the Lamb's beloved bride.

artwork: from the Moutier-Grandval Bible, France (Tours), c. 830 – c. 840 -