Men's eyes will see the vessel,
not what its heart contains,
We speak condemning language,
not truth that love retains,

We're deaf to hope's bright message,
hear not its tolling bell.
Not drinking of faith's fountain,
from depths of wisdom's well.

Too late we gaze through windows,
where grace and love have walked.
Desiring not love's purpose,
while shadows softly stalked,

Not hearing while light's burning
before one's final breath.
The veil of blindness rising
revealing life in death.

I feel that final warning
it's time's eleventh hour.
Five maidens' lamps not burning
in shadow's darkness cower.

R.Owen 19/2/2022.