The Cataclysm + 

Even through the City of the Dead she passed, + 

Her sack of Horror’s harvest to refill; + 

And lo, into the untilled world she cast, + 

With a million hands, the black seeds of her will. + 

But in the bone-strewn waste I saw a snail + 

Crawling out of the socket of a skull, + 

Exultant still:⁠— + 

Rising from the universal bane + 

To thank the rain. + 

And in the thorny flanks of the river tomb, + 

Gorged yesteryear with the fruits of fear and doubt + 

The nations bear when their sinews run out, + 

I saw the crocus weave her tender bloom + 

Into the ivy’s tangled hair, + 

While struggling out of the gloom + 

To praise the air. + 

The Cataclysm, passing to her goal, + 

Turned inside out the pockets of the world, + 

Not sparing even the altar of the soul, + 

Which at the cradle of the soul she hurled. + 

But when at last she fell + 

Across the sill of hell, + 

I saw in her incalculable toll + 

A butterfly, + 

Winging out of the riddled emblem of God + 

Toward the sky;⁠— + 

Rising with the Faith re-won + 

To serenade the sun. + 