Angels' Song

Come, you things of fire,
you shining bene elohim
come now in strength,
come here!
Unfurl your wings
and set yourselves
to rive
the cold expanse of space,
from Heaven's gate
down to Judea's hills
and arrow through the night
with majesty and glory in your tiding wake
to make those tending shepherds
huddling now upon the ridge
that rings dark Bethlehem
quake and dance
and sing with you
at your apocalypse.