THERE WHERE WINGS ARE FOLDED

THE SILENT SOUND OF THE SUN’S CENTER

IS SEEN,

IS SEEN,

GOING, GLEAMING.

…

STREET WALKERS WALKING THE STREETS

HOLY HANDS OF THE MINSTRELS

IN THEIR OWN PRIVATE INFERNOES

124,000 STRONG

WHO SING

THEIR OWN SONGS.

…

LITERATE SOCIETY IS

MONKEY SEE, MONKEY DO

TALENTED MONKEYS RUNNING THE CIRCUS NOW

ALL MY DAUGHTERS AND SONS.

…

WHEN FICTIONS LIKE THESE

BEGIN TO OPERATE AS REALITIES

WITH HUMBLE HUNGRY HIGHWAYMEN

GOING THEIR WAYS, ECSTATIC MEDIEVAL FEMALE

SAINTS REJOICING IN PAIN, IT IS TIME NOW

TO BATHE IN MY SEAS OF THEIR MYSTIC RESIGNATION.

GOOD FRIDAY IS COMING TODAY.

…

BUT CAN YOU FEEL THE INVISIBLE RING

AROUND THE PEBBLE

IN THE PALM

OF MY HAND.

…

AND

YOUR TREMBLING EARS

AND PURIFIED EYES

SO YOU SHALL

WALK FORTH

STRUT FORTH

AND STRIVE INTO THE SILENCE OF

IT:

THE FURTHER BEYOND.

Dale Williams Barrigar

(All images by Dale Williams Barrigar)