Look! Is that a rocket trail?

A shard of meteor debris twirling 

on the thermal down-draughts; 

A wind-devil, elemental cloud-creature, 

a chem-contortion,

a murmuration or sky-skein of starlings,

an explosions’ plume of drifting smoke,

 or pure pareidolia?

 

There, for all to see! 

Over-arching, angel wings

stretch out beyond the tangled power lines, street lamps, pylons and rooftops,

silvered and lithe like a live thing,

 in the eggshell dawn rising

above the cathedral dome.

 

Is it a banner of war

or a sign from the heavens?

To the beleaguered, resistant or refugee 

a matter of faith or fake?

 

Come, O great being of Light!

 Cast the power of your arm and shield 

around the struggles of your people!

Help them hold their sacred space,

strong in spirit, standing their ground.

 Bring the new day out from the shadows - warmth and colour returning!

 

Mikha’el, towering aloft, dispelling terror 

and dismay, into the dying dark!

Protecting the land of his namesake holy place, in the city’s pulsing heart;

intimating sovereignty, equity, grace

and augering righteous peace.

Mar