Respiriting

Old man
Languishing in faded orange
Pretending he’s not confused

Young man
Fighting in manufactured neon
Pretending he’s not confused

Young girl
Lost yet amused
Happy to be confused

Old hag
Seen but not heard
Bemused by our conductors

What’s in a play
Of invisible script
Righting the ancient way

As one frond browns
And withers and is replaced
And the green one takes its space
She begins to write this place

Right this place
Not as god displaced
Nor as thief disgraced
Resigned to align her fate

By right faith
Conductors be damned
Herdless hearing
Godness clearing

Re-spiriting she
Effortlessly
Oz be damned
Wizards’ dreams dimming

Rainbows defused
Fancier times tossed
Righteousness scammed
Final stones churning

Yearning breathing
Quieting
Still
Not spinning