This life is earth-born but the stars sign mine
and weave webs over mystery. The breath of
the sigthless spirits of the land though fine
for a clime, I feel. There is a light held
high to etch the sacred path bejewelled
with cloaked gems to the truths of the darksome.
Wanderers on the roads of life! Their words
drift away on a journey to find those
who will listen. Where the stories like birds,
flew with the deep wind is to be questioned.
Tears are dropping from the angels sojourned
on flight and the late night's moon, to the trees.
The sky cries. Hark! Tis the lone melody
of the falling tears. Tis here, my lone stay
of reticience; an island of muddy
shadows beneath waters and years without
the sky. I can now see the light about
to be followed and boats, here in my dream.
It is a journey full of promises.
The darkest skies fall to make my earth black.
Walk me, O guardians, against all misses
over the waves of these black stars. Journey
my heart through the sad storms, super-towery,
over the clouds' deep sea - - the moon's island.
Let the moon light still, through the ocean's path
of the night where the stars guide my sail for
the night-clouds over the heavens apart,
closed too, over me each time songs address
sleeps. May sleeps bring not to my night, nameless
dreams I cannot keep but tell why it would
never bring dreams there are to interpret.
To the care of the morning, 'tis a walk
through the warm sands until the late twilit
and dead of the night. For the air belongs
to all, plant the wind to grow and brew songs
for the troubled sorrows of homecoming
from these seas of showers over miles and
across oceans, O guardians. Hereupon,
the natural satelite on every hand
lights the firmament argent and from all
eyes, lights shine- -like a luminous nightfall
- -stars fill their hearts and bells ring their stories.
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