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Mercy 
Maybe the only missing piece of knowledge,
The whole, is known.
Everybody's mum about it;
A moment of acknowledgment
Would lift the sanction.
But there is a kind of half-life to learning�
An oil spot's changing ratios
Of blue, gold, and green.
And violence, sometimes, is a way
To beauty: momentary rainbows
Inside the drenched prisms.
God has patented the formula
For emptiness. A diptych shows
The Mithraic-Christian knight
Spearing old Wormwood;
A hinge away, serenely Byzantine,
The sorrowing Madonna, her face
Concentric, mother of mercy
Cradling the swathed spitfire,
Mercy himself.
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