Paradise
The angel's sword protects the gate,
The golden fruit rots on the ground
The prophets dark and desperate
Probe how salvation can be found.
The angel's greeting, softly loud,
Proclaims the Spirit's fruit within,
And obscure sayings coalesce;
To show the new age will begin.
The angels sing "goodwill to men"
With sweetness until then unknown;
And Mary wonders at the words
To understand what she has borne.
The angels worship at the throne,
The gates flung wide for all to come;
For Mary's willingness to serve
Has re-made paradise our home.