Rockies’ peaks form Goliath’s ruptured spine
after the fall, their distant silhouette
also his dried-blood lower jaw, divine
images altering with this sunset’s
varied moods, seeming to fade behind bold
mountains, then blazing anew, fire mirrored
in vast cloud cluster, furnace to drive cold
from heaven. Now scarlet. Now Persian red.
And now this mammatus canvas recalls
Pillars of Creation—lustered columns
of dust crowning Eagle Nebula—sprawled
across starry space like lava. Solemn
as priest and nun at sunrise, we would gaze
through telescopes, deep breaths our humble praise.
Roger Armbrust
August 27, 2008
