Raw organic perfume spread it’s
Wings; blanketing the chamber. A
Cool draught dives through the
Subtle crack beneath the alter.
Anxious honest peasants captured by
Arousal and fear – tension suffocates
The will of ancient marble relics. Deep
Mulberry scented blood flows freely
And stains the hair of angels. Erotic
Nymphs prepare a tomb; virgins bless
The cradle in hope that innocence is
Reborn – perhaps in animal form.
Clothes soaked in myrrh infused goats
Milk prepared in anticipation. Freshly
Chewed kava is set aside to lubricate
The transition. Doves squeal an eerily
Spooky high pitched squeal; deafening
The prophet. Magnificent artistic lead
Light windows shatter in the intensity.
Lightning completes the miraculous
Transformation. Piercing icy winds turn
To dust. A shallow pulse thumps over the
Temples of the witnesses present. Weight
Is lifted, crow channels the spirit. Infinite.
The king is born…
© Leroy Wilson