"The Covenant" Before the first leaf withered, before the tide receded, A decree was etched in firmament, a seal upon the vast. Across the vault of heaven, where storm and light collided, The prismed arc remained—a promise that would ever last. A signature of mercy carved in refracted light, To hold the world in balance through the tempest of its flight. But man’s own vows are brittle threads, a reed within the gale, Fractured by the weight of pride and shadowed by the fall. We sought a truth enduring, beyond our fleeting veil, A covenant that stood when every human pillar fell. For words of dust cannot bind what spirit seeks to hold; The earth required a seal that time could never mold. Then came the timbered scaffold, where the wood met holy breath, A darker arc than any prism in the weeping sky. Where sin’s demand was settled in the hollow of the death, And mercy’s law was written where the dying shadows fly. The cross—the ultimate and heavy seal upon the land, The point where broken promise meets the Master’s reaching hand. Not by a sign of water or the light of passing hue, But by the crimson seal upon the heart’s interior gate; In Christ’s own blood, the ancient debt is rendered true, A covenant of life inscribed in death to conquer fate. No storm can dim the promise, no age can break the seal: The Word remains, the blood abides, the covenant is real.