The Promised Land

The Promised Land full

From the fevered labyrinth of the repeating mind
Rises the architectural dream
The green jade city guarded by the Evangelist’s lions
They hold in their symmetry to the ruled horizon
They hold the idea of order in their reposing paws
And though they never shall turn their flat eyes
They could if they so wished as they never will

There are no people in the geometric city
Its broad ways are trafficless as are the lion’s ungraven eyes
For the city is perfect, it is straight and it is curved, it contains,
And in the theatre there is a silent singer
Who sings the inscrutable song of angles which we see
Spreading along the line-drawn streets

And this is why the city is our birthright
But we can never walk in it
We can only know the city through the quixotic lens of obsessive perspective
The camera obscura of the shuttered fluttering eye

by Sophia Nugent-Siegal ©