All Hallow's Eve; a Sonnet of Reclamation

Though Satan breaks our dark glass into shards 
Each shard still shines with Christ’s reflected light, 
It glances from the eyes, kindles the words 
Of all his unknown saints. The dark is bright 
With quiet lives and steady lights undimmed, 
The witness of the ones we shunned and shamed. 
Plain in our sight and far beyond our seeing
He weaves them with us in the web of being 
They stand beside us even as we grieve, 
The lone and left behind whom no one claimed,
Unnumbered multitudes, he lifts above
The shadow of the gibbet and the grave,
To triumph where all saints are known and named;
The gathered glories of His wounded love.

--Malcolm Guite (1957- ), Anglican priest, poet, singer-songwriter, and philosopher, from Sounding the Seasons, 2012