the release
of such forbidding
religious debris, it is
told how our wagon ever
got through this hell gate,
it's written on parchment and
folded in fourths in a miner's bible,

Rosicrucian belief
die-cast, white rose
and Cross lying next
to the wax mold imprinting
with The Key, alchemical savior in
a time of upheaval, rust on top of the
rocks where our wagon wheel rims rubbed
transporting us to our souls' retrieval,

gold has
its lure but
it's the brass
of the ankh that got
us here, we make sure
Gideon's bible is furnished
to those travelers in this year,
the release of such forbidding
religious debris, that we might
save someone in the night,

we pray
in the candle
light, through
amber of the whiskey
it is told how our wagon
ever got through this hell
gate.

Copyright Ms. Sage Sweetwater, firebrand lesbian novelist, faithful practitioner of the Wiccan faith...