by Travis Mateer

Today it begins.

The poem below is a word map to the mystery. Eventually an image will be produced to further the mystery.

I am blessed to have a role in this mystery and I will honor that role by staying true to the miracles I am seeing all around me.

THE WORD BEFORE THE IMAGE

I.
sworn to the secret is
synchromystic edict
until the time is right
for you to know 
time is not an A
to B type flow

II.
prophet Jaybird’s
obscene beak—
from Sherman take
an Ill Noise peek 

in hospital bed
God’s not sick, but
sidelined by a 
coma trick 

III.
who plug puller?
who the nurse?
who sells fear
outside the hearse?
who laid plans
to steal the church?
who refused 
the Catholic quirks
of contract, rules and decrees
things old Baphy 
likes to squeeze?

IV.
Selma pictured with God
is a mystery
you can’t solve

the picture is the portal
into the mystery, but
it’s still too easy 
to dismiss the good news 
wafting on seemingly 
impossible particles of pollen
embedded in the fabric 
of the shroud

synchromystics who
commodify access to their voice—
the good news is
passing you by
as you wait for Sibyl signals
while celebrating 
the entertainment value 
of dementor Joe

V.
the picture is the portal 
we must enter 
to confound Saturnian time breakers
to find safe harbor
within the miracles—

the miracle of his plane
not blowing up
and a mangled car
that didn’t snuff her breath
like Lisa’s death

VI.
the power of things not happening 
is a two-way street
and the gift of time
is no guarantee the unwrapping
can be done
without paper cuts

maybe SS, like DD—within 
the sedated trap of Dr. Sleep—
saw the tangent rip 
of remaining tethered 
so he chose 
to ride that engine home 
laughing at the love-web echo
his departure helped create 

is this the mutant gospel
proclaiming the synchromystic miracle 
Selma pictued with God 
is unlocking?

VII.
On the 17th stab of April cruel
you can choose to see, believe 
or let the clouds of fear descend 
in order to deceive 

on the 22nd stab of April cruel 
how shall you honor the earth?
bury your head in fear of the dead
or ask for help healing hurt?