God’s Breath

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God’s Breath

A Sonnet

It was seeded in a cosmic drowse 
The root and tree of Night’s house.
To wither and perish never to bloom
To refuse all light and God any room.

Stripped of mind’s aid and a vital rush
Our hours march to an occult hush.
From the soil of being emerge now
The denizens of night, pain in tow.

The grim battle in our being rages
Casting a shadow upon life’s pages.
Yet all is not nought, the battle not in vain
For God’s breath courses through lung and vein.

Night shall be rolled back for a sun-lit day
And the Blue-God inhabit our mortal clay.