The Ancient Modern

Heir of Prophecies, Part III  /  Joshua Alan Sturgill         

                                       Between yourself and the Gates,
partly hiding them from view, are crowds of merchants,
street performers, prostitutes, policemen. Are they
acting out some answer to the Riddle? But look again:
there are no crowds, no motion, no answer, only
the illusion created by the complex ornaments
of the Gate itself. Out of anxiety, you gave shape,
movement and a seeming purpose to mere decoration;
you invented this world of dancing forms — a Screen
of Fantasy — to disguise the Void.
Anima is animation.
Virtue is virtual.
Only the Sphinx is real.


All poetry and supplementary material: copyright 2021 by Joshua Alan Sturgill. All rights reserved.

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