the 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.