when the smoke has all cleared, as springtime sun
turns to summer fire, do not search for darkness
among the light, for it will not be found,
rather search for far off hills of sand, in the land of
initial birth,
where it is I patiently wait, tasting your sweet lips
in the night time air, calling your precious name upon the
east bound wind, looking out upon the cold blue sea,
for as far as the eye can see, here is where the future
shall dwell,
here it is where the past shall die, here in this land of
setting suns
and new final beginnings;
call out my name, and I shall
answer,
climb to the top, and there I shall be.
.
.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Your feedback is greatly appreciated