songs from psalms:
a sequence 1999-899the west wall begins opposite the open prophecy,
‘behold a virgin,’ our lady, handmaid, who, kneeling
with divine ritual spoken, figure in full length,
is seated, right-hand held in benediction
in an eastern manner for deliverance
while from behind seven swords thrust
into her breast, her body firmament.
about her neck she wears marvelous
salutations, ‘come my chosen one
into the kingdom. the movement begun.’
attending the entrance, the messiah, a lad,
enters. harps weave in, out, about break into
his song of departure. all earthly things dominate,
capture the conflict. cocks of immortality rise
to caw sanctus continuously.
fulfilling the promise of his race, redemption
an unrelated theme, graves by the sound of trumpets
suggests multitudes of lost souls,
the wrath of the lord redoubled against his people.
that they repress falling upon children surprises.
in the niche on the east wall are various
conventional symbols from the west.
beneath the feet of Adam
false gods bow despairingly, their central figure
typifying humanity. nonetheless, their daughters,
idols ensnared, sensuously veiled in blue,
screen their faces in the wings of seraphim.
in counterpoint at the wall’s furthest edge
the Christian concepts of judgment. the heads of burnt offerings,
the eucharistic chalice filled with sacred blood,
the lamb, the child, the lion, the yoke.
above, the staircase leads up.
upon the vault of the ceiling between the long walls
strange gods whom the children adore.
to the left the visitation to draw forth.
on either side they are bound closely.
their most despised enemies rule over them.
on the cross is a dead Christlike figure.
the symbol of the cross fulfills a like function;
the passion: the spear, the nails, the reed.
three groups of singing angels flank
the crucifix while behind each godhead
the dragons, the sun-myths, above whose heads
the sun with rays reaching the oneness which ends,
stand. upon their shoulders his name shall be received
into the arms uplifted to strike with scourges
& sword. purified of soul with turbulent,
terrible fear, the religion of the virgin, the condemned made perfect
by demons while those of soul are thrust down,
heathen, discordant. in contrast, a beautiful,
soulless figure sheds innocent blood,
even blood of one’s son. stretched forth
to stay female oppressors & prostate victims
prophets ignorant of the division
adore the new born infant since all are one flesh,
while in the remaining quarters,
the heads of the trinity are crowned
each of the three raising three fingers.
the law balanced between eternal & agony
weighs mere mortals emerging from the opening
borne on a tempestuous crescent moon.
on the south wall is set forth the dogma.
the spaces outside the panels are numerous.
surrounded by enticing assumptions of virgins
are etched the words below the arch,
‘I am the maker of heaven & redeemer of all that I love.’
dust, dancing silhouettes in western light
dying. they come in already dead
counting blessings that hint at beauty & concord,
gated gardens, colossal ivory towers.