A Terrible Good

I saw eternity the other night, felt in the blood, and felt along the heart.

When I hear the lay that once I saw her hand awake,

Her form seems palpable, and near.

And I music’s power obey.

Surely the All-Seeing joys to see us with

His gifts agreeing.

In truth there is no freeing one’s thoughts from such a beauty;

Since beauty cannot be, unless the mind agrees.

From the passion and the life whose fountains are within,

The awful shadow of some unseen Power flowed through;

A Power so-called through sad incompetence of human speech.

Yet sad incompetence might recognize what it can hardly name.

Like an exhalation with the sound of dulcet symphonies,

That awful Power rose from the minds’ abyss.

Fear no more the heat.

Ecstasy no more bewilders.

Only those who have not known are afraid.

Disperse these mists which blot my senses,

Let me hear those voices more than all the winds, with power,

And see those huge and mighty forms, that do not live like living men.

Joy overtake us, as a flood from the Heavenly harmonies,

From which sprang the foundations of the world.

A Heavenly harmony,

A great and terrible Good.

By Scott Sloan

 (Read more of Scott Sloan’s works at It’s Just a Theory)