God bless

God bless
the devil-in-the-design
              through all the lonely ages
the liars
              deceivers, misleaders--prideful and spiteful
boastful--the blind
              God bless
the stumblers--the bumblers--the fumblers
the shamblers--the ramblers
              shuddering, milling in the night
              approaching, encroaching--with groping hands
where that old star hangs low and bright
              groping and grasping--they gasp as they're passing
              crowding the roads down into
Old David's City--such pieces, the sons of man
of the work--who will speak but not understand
              when the angels sing--to crack the night
God bless the fearful--and aid their flight
              streaming past houses--quick in the alleys
to the rooms they've reserved--some broke for the valleys
                  and left the torches and the walls, altogether.
              it starts there. with the sheep grazing idle in the heather
and echoes, out--all along the gutters
              into the corners--near and far
praise the shadow with running footsteps
God bless the darkness--mind the star.