What has happened to us! Woken by dreams of black water. Folded into dry reflection.

A rolling unknown. Say what you mean, mean what you say.

We forget how to speak. We hide in fences. We miss the poetry of it all.

A last look at the carved faces of the church.

Cut into the sky and draw a fantasy of stone. Cross out the clouds and replace them with spires unnamed.

Cascading stone angles shape this cathedral. Deep crevices and sharp turns etch a path of awe.

Torn and rusted, a shelter for the lost, for the temporal.