Duly called the cup of life –
Outwards grew a blossom. Special
Was the bloom, a trine of light.
It was more: In centrifugal
Ways it grew, spiraling into
Realms of matter, jewelled, extending,
Source of incense never ending.
Sweet ambrosia filled the ether
In tumultuous swathes, divine.
All around the glittering Seraphs
Showed the selves the leaves of time.
Turned were ages into twinkling
Swaying, starry-studded trees,
While the watching, held in thrall,
Turned their gaze, beheld, believed.
Summoned from the rest by angels,
Once named souls were then uprisen.
Those perceived the open door and
Streamed in dew-lit robes to Heaven.