With a blood moon steep arising, and the sun beyond its set; stars, wobbling in their course, submit to gravity’s fated threat.
The Apocalypse’s disclosure of the Promised One’s descent into creaturely exposure ’mid cruel suffering and lament.
Speak, O Ancient of Days, from moon’s eclipse, sun’s sunken shroud, from blackened hills and choking streams,
From sundered hopes and punctured screams, from molested soil and soul stooped, bowed.
Hence from silenced tongues bring clamorous crowd to greet the angels’ restive news of heaven’s ire with earth’s disdain.
With a blood moon steep arising, and the sun beyond its set, let watchful eyes and wakened hearts mark midnight hours and cockcrow dawns.
E’vn should earth decay and heaven betray, the Word will prevail over every travail.
Keep awake—though you know neither hour nor day, from hither or yon—for your Comforter surely hastens.