Ever-new, without beginning ~
the seed surrendered to the hidden green of sun and rain and earthy air.
Never-ending, forever complete ~
the dream... spinning on in brightness, casting deeper grays beneath our
feet.
Of loving arms that promise lasting strength.
Of truth once trusted before and after battles fought.
The pale-faced fugitives huddled in the shade of death.
The clarion ring of steel on steely heart, dead-set on crying war to
champion life ~
and challenge death within a common dream...
Perhaps to serve as truth where father time has ravaged mother earth.
To sing of friends however lost and sing their rising once again,
to wrap our spheroid Self with other, polar selves...
each final descent whatever plight or banner
engendering ascent in brightly colored origins ~
The glow suffused
with life: our Death,
and endless rebirth of other selves, of Sun, of Sea and air,
of selfless Self.


Penned by my hand on the 9th of Ios, in the year 328 MA.