As Long Ago In Parchments Foretold

Come, let us be civil.

The universe blazes
With flaring fliers  busy at task,

Winding symbols down,
Parables and paraphrases,

The project is over,
They served us well,

But nothing can mask
The flickering unfinished,
Not fully formed
In you and me.

Soon we will stumble
Beckoned to Bethlehem,
To the stable of prophesy,
To the child, the man,
The risen king,  another prophesy
Of his return,
 The pondering.