A Glimpse of Glory

In search of them who prophesy
of times and seasons drawing nigh,
I gaze on garish gods of yore.
Below a jewel-emblazoned sky,
eternity's profound decor.

They orchestrate our circumstance.
Performing their celestial dance,
to melodies of singing spheres
that mark the course of our advance
in journeys through the endless years.

What marvel at the ill-effect
of suffrage born to our neglect.
So - wherein lies the fault?
How wondrous are the Architect's
designs contained in heaven's vault.