Threshold of Transformation

I've arrived
City of
Lucid dreams

Before me
A building
Looms caked in
Inky grime

The act unknown
Actor in sleep
Here I enter
And here I see
The circle and
Bones made in haste

The
Winds to
Anoint the
Faithful

Amorphous specter turns
From old to new
Rests in faith beside me
We wait for the quiet fire

To be born and there it is
Embodied by a boy
His voice small and grey
Whispers smoke to the chosen

Upon our heads
He places crowns
Sewn with hiss
And higher tones

The boy presses
Whispers into her
And they bathe in
Valley's pale rain
Rain