Above the winds angels picnicking …

… suffer the mystery feast disrupted…

…trailed mechanical wind spewing; above even them.

Down below neurotic dilettantes, momentary primitives, must imagine the wild.  No folks resplendent in costumed violence roam (as Adam and Eve would have known), only conglomerates of rational violence; the perfection of intimidation and killing.

 

And yet the winds remain (some would say,  increase) the result of wildness monetized.

Living in a time when “it” is over, “it” that is, the final claim on God by the earthly wild. Angels may remember the fires of the past and presume the fires of the future as the fires of the rationalized present  burn.

What remains is …

… the winds.