Transfiguration

It all began so simply, and so plain,
One evening, in a time so far away,
When stars, just newly born, began their reign
And trembled o'er the mountain, dark and grey.

The sunset smoked, a lamp that would not cease,
And He was silent, noticing us not,
Until the eternal cicadas hushed their peace,
And the flying "now" to a halt was caught.

I see it all again, as it occurred,
When He arose with one single, fluid grace –
What power in Him shimmered and stirred!
What abysses showed behind Him in that space!

Within His eyes, Eternity would beat,
Ablaze with myriads of worlds and suns,
And one felt sharply time's own swift retreat –
The centuries that pass as moments once.

But then – the sounds of higher choirs grew dim,
And once again, a man stood in our sight,
Who bore, as priceless gifts brought back from Him,
The shattered fragments of the stars' own light.

For just a brief, a magical, short span,
A tiny key unlocked for us the core,
That He was all – and I, and my friend, the man,
And time, the universe, and – was the Door.