Healing

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Saint Sebastian
Suffrage
from NONE - The Hours of the Cross

As you extend your breath long enough, you
See the quarry of stone and statuettes -
Halos escape from your mortal frame, as
Spears of steel pierce through your narrowing vault.

Stare at the ether, decipher the scripts
On the dome, a hazardous prophecy
Of your youth in convergence - quickening,
Glittering icons that sinuously glow.

From the chimney of our worship, where air,
Whitened with brilliance, is purged of doubt -
To the sacred depository of our
Restfulness - a cycle is thus fulfilled.

Follow the air that escapes from the last
Doorway - shape it with the sound of your thought.

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