Threshold of Transformation

I've arrived 
City of 
Lucid dreams 

Before me 
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