“No one who has a haughty look and an arrogant heart will I endure.” – Ps. 101:5
The King enthroned: a glorious sight!
He sparkles in his ermine robes, his garnet rings, his crown.
His holds his staff erect, above the gathered crowd, a flash of gold,
the sign life or death.
His Court arrays in splendid form at his right hand.
Their glistening silks flow toward the throne
and back again. Electric arcs of power trace their mouths, a low expectant hum.
They smell of ozone and of smoke.
The Guards, their bronze-tipped spears like stars,
form ranks behind the Court. Their breastplates sculpt the shape
of muscled beasts. Their faces, cut from stone, unflinching, stare toward the King,
desiring his command.
The Priests and Monks hold silence at the King’s left hand,
in ruby cloaks or cassocks black as tar. They lightly sway and chant a hymn,
their song and incense sweetening the air. A sacrificial dove is held above the bowl,
its blood a recompense for sin.
The Subjects wait before the throne. They kneel, abased, and kiss the cool grey floor,
their calloused palms turned up in prayer. They wear their finest farmer’s wool,
rough garments for this place, and offer bowls of figs and grapes, and bread,
and honeycombs.
The King, his arms held wide, arises from his throne,
the purple lining of his robes like wings unfolding in the Sun. His eye
surveys the multitudes who gather at his word. The Earth falls still. Now he will speak,
and all will hear the voice of God.