Fading footsteps
out of the wind
Ever soft I
tread yet...Where shall I land in safety?
Kindle a singing fire along eastern ridge
A mantra flowing across the valley
Over ancient ground swelling in autumn rains
The point of reverence is almost reached
And is not defiled by insuperable odds
As world turns from nights grey ash
And morning comes alive from dark
When the sway of the world moves in time
With the ruin of all we held to be good
What shall arise from the black of night?
To surprise my angry dawn of reason
