Dream

Posted on April 22, 2004 in Dreams

Every night in a cathedral built at the apex of a steep natural ziggurat, a priest who lives in the cellar comes up after the patriarchs have delivered their encyclicals for the day. He celebrates a mass for the dead. All the niches, the stone effigy tombs, the ossuaries, the potter’s field outside the great doors open. The disarticulate bones clatter out, line up in the pews, sit, kneel, and rise in antiphon to the commeration of Christ’s triumph over rigor motis and decay.