Habitués of Heaven hate to hurry,
After eons soaked in ecstasy,
Perched upon a pinhead, pink and blurry,
Passionately pleased simply to be.
Yet those of us below, who work and worry,
Send from time to time an urgent plea,
Ever hoping for a glimpse of glory
Vouchsafed from beyond what we can see.
Enter, then, O angels, in your fury,
Nether worlds no bigger than a pea,
To brush the moment with your burning beauty,Hallowing this anniversary!