A Cassandra's Confession

By the time the towers crumbled

my religion long gone,

I did slouch toward an inner

Bethlehem seeking a new revelation.

Resting high up on the desert of my mind,

numen emerged shimmering dressed in white linen

bearing little difference one from the other

with gaze fixed walking west when I thought east.

While searching for pen and paper, one turned to catch

my eye causing me to rise out of the entraining western

descent and into the flow of the quiet resistance.

There to remain until new symbols emerge to show me the way.

Art: Revelación (El relojero) 1955, Remedios Varo