The Anonymous Court

Who moves when none are moving,

Who speaks when prayers fall short?

Whose eyes gleam black behind the glass—

The watchers of the Court?

They linger in your doorway,

They whisper from the eaves;

They write upon the falling dust

That every soul still leaves.

They are the hush at midnight,

The chill before the storm,

They mark the deeds that gods forget

And keep the world’s true form.

They never stir for trifles,

Nor heed a mortal plea;

But when the stars grow wrong again,

Their judgment wakes the sea.

So guard your heart in shadow,

Let mercy be your fort;

For all are seen, and none forgot

By the Anonymous Court.