Belong to None

Nijmegen, the Netherlands

...We are our own house, the living architecture.

We shall send up a fleet of kites, scrawled with the words of the day. Kites of blenched muslin stretched over glowing cross-sticks, dressed with flowing tails. They will be seen drifting above the clouds, all our blameless, childish hopes.

Stalking the target, our bows indestructible, we draw and release. The sun shall have the fleece and the flesh shall fall away. The secrets of the Minotaur, the grail of Parsifal and the bones of saints shall be purified, committed to the elements. And these things we saw written on the immense screen once known as sky.

And these things we heard as prophecy's lullaby. The mountain is the mountain. The Lord is the Lord. The holy city belongs to none. The mountains of Judah belong to none. The yielding seed belongs to none. And we are the new Jerusalem.

--Prophecy's Lullaby, The New Jerusalem by Patti Smith