awake now! Recite! Write it down, letter by letter the house of Holy is being built brick by brick, letter by letter, gem by gem
my Spirit approached me by night with a vision of gladness a triumphant tiding born on a warm and powerful wind in the dead of winter
Say, “It is finished” Say, “The city has fallen!” Say, “Come away with me, my love. Come away, and taste not of her poison delicacies”
as in a dream, I watched while a mad-woman a maenad ran through every street and back alley a lunatic possessed by the moonlight holding in her left hand a magic wand that she had retrieved from a children’s magic kit a plastic wand
and everywhere she ran she swung her wand pointing at each and every thing and shouting
HOLY! HOLY! HOLY! HOLY! Holy, the cobblestones of the street! Shining in the moonlight! Swinging her wand and pointing up HOLY the dark clouds which move to block the moonlight and move away again to reveal!
Swinging and shrieking and crying HOLY! HOLY! Pointing the wand at the gawking passerby who stopped to stare, clutching their children tightly to guard them from her madness HOLY the skeptics, the blind, and the deaf! For they shall see! They shall hear! Holy your children, whom you shall not keep from me! They will follow me through the streets, singing and dancing to my merry tunes!
Holy the children, for they believe in magic wands of plastic Holy the plastic, no less than the gold with which you adorn your temples!
Holy the darkness, which falls over your land! And with those words the Lady flung her arm pointing her wand at the moon itself which turned red-black like congealed blood over a wound and darkness fell over the cobblestones in the streets
and panic fell in the hearts of the passerby because the light was gone and screaming terrified, they tried to drag their children with them back inside their homes where the cold hum of electricity kept the incandescent status quo glowing from the ceilings
but the children would have none of it the Lady had begun to dance under the darkened moon through the black streets singing a merry tune (holy holy holy) and the children each broke free from the terrified death-grips of their parents and danced behind Her into the streets