Look at the sky, that vast expanse;
The mottled, dappled, mackerel sky;
The canopy for past romance
Where lovers wept their last goodbye.
Or burning blue, without a flaw,
So they, like we, might clearly feel
The scything sharpness of the Law;
Hard as a mirror cast in steel.
On other days to show His power
He made the lion and its prey,
But for the backdrop of this hour
He made the sky for one whole day.