women with the sun

The sunny alamoth

A congress of truths and one lie 

With hands on our mouths, our souls cannot speak

Is it worth the all’s while

Field of wheat and wane 

Where truth is sown in all places

Father’s forgotten watch arms 

Waxes powerful 

A box holding big feathers or reaching

Alms for seeing 

From depth and silence came truth

True in all it’s emanations 

Pursued by the dusty dead

The errored fog step over this truth 

Drawn of all spaces in all places

Tied with sticks 

Emissaries advance with their right fingertips raised 

For fears we’d have to fight another day