A secret cave in the glacial

wastes

of gas and air stretching beyond all comprehending:

a light, tiny, unwavered,

the faint glow a beacon to that

chiefest coven of principals, prior

to the fall the greatest array

of lordly wings in Heaven.

Lit down lonely in secluded arrival

the five dominions accepted by

the cavern, gather in quiet counsel

with Raphael and Michael.
With grave and self-made drama

the Chamberlain relates the scene made

by Satan at their door

earlier that day.

Murmuration and constrated faces

the archangel turned to speak:
“If that time should come, an

angel fallen reclaim Heaven,

no god nor crucified may hope

to save us. He coming home

turns off the light; it is over, once

the prodigal returns. The world

is nothing but a test

for evil to do its worst. The lord

created Earth as a battlefield for us

to contest. But if ever the enemy

succeeds in crossing it entirely

we are lost. All creation will cave

behind him, lost stars fall, collapsing

in his wake,

and Earth too.

This babe is nothing but a ruse; whatever

the truth of his remorse, immovably

the fact persists: by any way

should Satan regain Heaven,

we are lost.

We must drive him back. Like the

legend of Magonus, let us gather

sticks, clubs, to beat the serpent-in-disguise

and guide him back to Hell.”
“You mean to kill a child?”

this duke of Heaven near faints away

and Raphael is pained. “This

is no child. This is Satan, unrepentant,

intent on fooling God.

He cannot win

by force, and so he seeks by guile

to corrupt the natural order, to swindle our sweet father

in allowing him return.

What then? What would happen to the princes of Heaven,

to God’s Right Hand, if his first right hand regrew?

Where will we go, we who opposed with righteous fire

his usurpation all ages before? If God forgives him

need that mean he forgives us? Nowhere is that written.

No time was that said. Satan remains Satan, enemy to all,

intent to destroy creation, everything

he cannot have or own.”

“What would you have us do?” one junior in the hierarchy

filled with urgent zeal.

“Watch, for now” said Raphael “and wait for that time

when we may press and turn him away

from his paradise.”

Their leader drew in dirt around their feet: “For now

this child must know disconcert, synchronous

with natural harmony. Make him displeased

to exist in his skin, make him a mocker

of all he belongs.”