Vanishing in the distance she is revealed
Whose architecture is littered with symbols
Obscured by the always-changing weather
Whose name resounds in the remembered halls
Of prayer or the forgotten doors of worship
That welcome the wanderers on pilgrimage
Whose music bathes in pentagonal windows
Where warm Sunlight pours across her body
Between her calligraphic breasts and thighs
Whose mysteries unfold in narrow pathways
And labyrinthine maps of foolish history
Whose politics acknowledge metaphysics
Yet declare the heavens a glorious god
Proclaiming the honor of her wise hand
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