A Silent Light. A Holy Light.

Time lapses. The Earth undercranks.
Night sky gives way to dawn sky
gives way to widescreen daybreak
gives way to Old Colony
of Christian Anabaptists nestling in
Neo-Biblical landscape of Northern México.
Plautdietsch dialect carries on the morning breeze.
Bread is broken. Ears of green corn stand tall.
The enfant-terrible is slowly working his magic.
The enfant-terrible is slowly weaving his spell.
Allowing ifluence of Tartovsky and Dreyer to seep on through.
Shows us Love. Shows us Betrayal. Shows us Forgiveness.
Teases out visual and spiritual tour-de-fucking-force.
Rains fall. Heavens rotate. Light flares in the lense.
Out through open window flies cabbage white butterfly.
Out through open window, and off
over hill and over dale
and across bend of slow-moving stream.
On to the place where the sun sets and the cattle low.
On to the place where the first stars twinkle from
on high.

Carlos Reygadas's 'Stellet Licht'