A hand from on high works with methods elliptic

invisible pulleys beneath the arena.

For here is the tomb, open doors and create

the evolution of deus ex makina.

He lays down the word for a trice apocalyptic,

looks over not knowing what his good book would mean,

saying pop the top and see her immaculate

as absolution of deux de machine.

The beast and the bone man turn back to the triptych.

The descending dove’s child bursts on the scene,

eclipsing the heavens, open to annunciate

the retribution that’s due the machine.

What gives and takes remains for commoners cryptic.

The bride holds and ponders her bachelor’s paean,

after seconds she sinks in the vault to await

the dissolution, and do the machine.