The Throne Upon the Lake
Who is death? I ask in earnest hope,
I seek to know the answer — give it plain!
With weariness and yearning in my brain,
I crave this sacred knowledge and do grope!
Is the answer hidden as the stars,
Harbouring behind a cloudbank veil?
Like a suited soldier under mail?
Like an essence in canopic jars?
Powerful as sun in mid-May thrown?
Powerless as moon to light herself?
A dark hermetic doorway in myself?
A mystery from unknown heavens blown?
Puissant as a symphony played proud?
Softer than a whisper from a ghost?
A blessing from the God that loves us most?
A booming trumpet fanfare played aloud?
Here upon the ice, I seek the key;
Racing on, with sweat upon my brow,
I gather God himself is sitting now,
Willing to confer the facts to me.
Past the pine tree forests on my left,
Racing o’er cutting frost that creeks,
Hoping for the answer my soul seeks,
Sliding ever, gliding movements deft…
I can sense the cold though I am hot!
Fish in frozen tombs below my feet,
Limbs in silk gyration moving fleet,
A pilgrimage for knowledge long forgot.
Here, arriving at the throne of God,
Taking off my skates and bending low,
I brush away the clumps of clinging snow,
On to meet the deity I plod.
Bowing down in deference, I sink,
Lowly as the beetle or the snail!
God sits here in snowy landscape pale;
To mine own heart bestow the missing link!
Seeing through me with angelic light,
Knowing my desire and my hope,
Like the Magi with a telescope,
He can bring a distant star to sight!
“Death is Adam’s destiny — to be,
A bright, eternal soul, in timeless clothes,
Into outer darkness now it blows,
Death — attending all eternity.
Death in sooth will issue no demands,
Though to him we reverently bow,
His gentle waters, lapping at thy prow,
His silken touch caressing thy two hands!
Light reflecting — souls are prism gleams!
Like the rainbow, bright in storm clouds cast,
Blackened heavens raging, spanning vast?
Death will light a path of hopeful beams.
Death would seem as some gate of release,
But Jesus sweet declares that death is not,
Rising from grave when sent to rot,
Death is love that never can decrease…”
AD Lovkis, 17/08/25
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