The Aboriginal Cathedral Reestablished:
One, never seen, not pictured below, not the in-between. The one before time, the beginning, our start. We ran. Dare we look back? Or should we find our own path?
The incensed, ingenious reckoner flounces.
Fidgets his fingers, chanting nonsense as bells clang…
Incensed, mercenary brutes flounce among the scheming malingerers who attempt to hide luxuries in crevices—gifts intended for the masses.
Insensed, the Masons, the mortarers, the mixers, the carpenters, the ropers, prime and scrape the skies. Jaded and bitter, they swear in monosyllables, “(#*!#), F#!$!, (*#!#!0) It’s A BOTTOMLESS PIT – The Devil!”
The reckoner becomes idle, sensing mutiny from weary quarry workers, foresters, and glaziers vexed by a “bottomless pit.”
Lawlessness grows in fertile darkness.
The reckoner throttles vultures;
A bluff, reversed back to front, a void of connectedness;
Then cajoles decorum.
In the dusk, the cantankerous Cathedral laboriously rises to heights defying the heavens, shadowing the workers beneath who bequeath wealth to petulant delinquent descendants.
Antiquities Grace and Loyalty surfaces:
In small doses, poison purges; laborer’s deloused.
A cauldron of soup brews as ecstacies smolder embers
Blacksmiths ready hooves.
What seemed a bottomless hole is FINITE.
We are bigger than all thought – A force that cannot be reckoned with. As a family, no disgraceful past can touch us – EVER!