Color
in faces, palms uplifted, a whisper towards its flicker; trumpet and bible,
silken garbs, holiness and flame; a fever inside, treading snakes, in woods,
hiding worship—hulking for rights. Oh Tender Rain, trekking the Congo, genetics
passed into the future. A symphony in waves, completely masked, looking at
pestilence; surreal rites, smaze forming, longing for America. Oh Sullen Cave,
fraught by blackdamp, building railways, mining hearts—the past seeming
forbidden. Undone, washing soot, praying for the Arête … for the goodness of
times, fulgent memories, favored arcs, colored realism—faced by self, eventually
a war, to awaken or remain unsteady—sure severance into a new beginning,
knotted and unknit, trying to become wisdom, made into a creature of
negotiations … a sudden whisper, much activity, a torrent of social
upheaval—wrought in hopes and dreams, visions of the Invisible … for those in
turmoil.
