A thousand years till midnight—
we hear the sets rumbling
behind the curtain
like distant thunder.
We blather expectantly
before the proscenium arch.
Act One sang us a war,
as we sat in horseshoe tiers
of greatness and nobility.
Now some wonder what Heaven
looks like from the outside.

At dim midday a half-millennium—
we hear Michael and Jehovah grunt
behind the curtain; one pushed too
hard and made the Himalayas.
Thus saith the set builder,
“Oh well.” In the grand foyer,
we sip the idea of sparkling
cider beneath God’s favorite star.
Overhearing creation, we toast
to its veiled expanse,
answered by the tight groan
of river heads being chiseled
into the stage.
Some wonder which brother’s
muffled voice says, “See
you in the garden.”


The curtain ripples and the lights
flicker forty years before
the entr’acte is played.
Our eldest brother emerges
into his gilded box, smiling.
Straight-faced angels tune
in the pit.
Our innocent mumbling froths
amid crystalline order.
We marvel how wondrous
it is to be owed
two more acts
by our true and faithful Gods.

Poet’s Notes:

With nods to The Book of Abraham, Chapter Three, and also to Bruce R. McConkie’s April 1974 general conference address, God Foreordains His Prophets and His People, for reminding me of the phrase “true and faithful.”

The featured image is of the Royal Swedish Opera and is licensed from iStock. Image credit: count_kert.

The secondary image is of the Metropolitan Opera’s main foyer. Image credit: Jake Christensen.