A Celestial sign of the times

Is he coming or going?
He lives on the prayers of the clouds, and crowds of witnesses.
Scorching and lighting the four corners, and cinders of the earth.
But then it dawned on the dying son.
It was set in stone against the echo of the shadows, punctuated by the flash of violet rays.
His fire was fading, blazing away in the twilight of the age.
Confronted with the prevailing winds of change, and the whither of the fainting leaves, enraged; he cast a fiery, fervent heat from the pores of his molten, blemished skin.
Then he turned his face towards the host of the heavens.
A heathen to his idols. And a witness to the mating and ploughing of the seasons.