the reflection is silent
the revelation is silent
chimes hung amidst the water roots
the broadcast signals
the parting of the curtain
the start of the trick
beetle-backed ministers
greybearded and shuffling
a parish of bird chirps
here now the sacrament
the waterweed
here now the distilment
of willow sap
the congregation of feathers
the pewsy mud of the
boat underlickers
bent barbelled over teacups
and grub lumps
a grey sky today
for this pinned down testament
a starched frock
two days old
rung around with a choir of warm wheatfields
and sawdust censers
splinter plinths to hold offerings
perched above the silent reflections
and brought now:
broken
reed
lake
glass
pigeon
feather
pages
in a sky painted
tipped
chalice water
river
rat hands
here now the first orison
empty throated into the warm,
seed-hung
stillness
behind the spore-benches
a collection
on a tin plate:
half a dog, half silt
the donations
small, button-sucked
quiet
the revelation is singing with no
mouth
singing willow root and still water
singing frog jump and sky stretch
and the antenna
upside down
broadcast blackâradiographa
apocrypha
the congregation reflected
in muddy, beetled voice
Rafael Torrubia is an award-winning writer of fiction, history, and things in-between. They have published work with the National Gallery of Scotland, Jupiter Artland, Bloodbath and others, with a weird fantasy novel forthcoming. They currently tell interactive stories on patreon.com/forestsecrets
Sunrise illustration by C.B. Auder.
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