Mitchell Irby
01/14/2025
Turning, turning from that good light
which blessed our day, now cedes to night.
Turning, turning toward ancient gods,
briefly hidden by the light now gone;
empowered again by the worship they’ve drawn.
Turning, turning into that cold night
whence again we crave self-serving delights
which are chased by each, for all their own vice–
not one left held by the grace of that light.
Turning, turning through heavenly space,
a glimpse of mere sights of wondrous display
that hint at the how of all that was made.
Turning, turning with hope for the light
with renewed faith in the truth revealed by the night.