The Turn of the Centuries

I saw Eternity the other night
Like a great Ring of pure and endless light,
All calm as it was bright.
Henry Vaughan
“The World”

Eternity unfolds before me, the multi-foliate Rose of all time,
or no time. It takes no time at all.
All ‘round the Rose is a whirlwind of stars, the firm foundation
ever revolving, the earth on it’s axis
hurtling through space, a place,
or not a place. It takes no place at all.
A wave of light emanates from the Rose, piercing the pores of the world—
it bursts into particles of crystal glass, forming a gold-flecked mosaic
underneath the backdrop of the deep
blue sky over the small Italian town.
Inside the church, the priest pronounces the words
of Institution, and the universe becomes still—
time and space are focused on a place.
As the Sanctus Bell rings—three times—
the bells in the steeple ring out in the town,
alerting all who hear to be attentive
to the presence of Christ
in the holy mysteries,
in that time,
in that place,
echoing through all of space,
hearkening back to the Light who created it.