Dragons of the defiled mind
roar against spring tree flowers,
breathe fire upon the sleeping.
Death, death it is
their horrid voices croak,
as mountain rivers melt
in rushing floods.
Yet even as waters boil,
from deep within the earth
armies of the angel arise,
trumpeting symphonies
of the apocalypse.
photograph by Louis MacKenzie
Reading of “Armies of the Angel” with music by Mozart
I am so privileged to be part of the army of the angel…
Our azaleas and redbud trees are in their full blooming time trumpeting symphonies of early Spring’s revelation.
Don, this one has very clever expressions in it. Nice. It is the era of death, isn’t it? So much of it self-inflicted.
Eons of fallen crouching, making cold and impenetrable the Angels collective soaring. The bottom line sears through all my holdings, leaving just One.
“Horses of the Lord and the Sons of Thunder!” A stirring “Get up and fight” that would stir Milton’s blood!