30 Jul Cadence of the Baptized Militant

A kingdom comes, providence-planned,
Violence-carried and angel-spanned,
Purchased with copper, two in hand.

You who put on Christ, you forward march!
Squander nothing to the wind-weathered west.
Long until you pass beneath the city arch
And see the skull and hill upon your fated rest.

Advance not beyond your moment of grace,
Heavy labors merit much in times before
We lower glass besmoked and see His Face
And we then can suffer not a moment more.
History is the Word in Passion writ large,
And God retraces not one daring stride
Toward the muted sum of His fatal charge,
So He should rise if but first He died.

That reason, that tongue, that Word unmade,
Darkness licks His heels in its futile arrest
For He reforms creation from waters bade
Facing first the east, then turning back west.

A changeless Spirit, a Holy breath of flame,
A living Image, a Son of human name,
A gracious Father, Principle self-same.