Lead me on dear friend,
Into those days of old.
Where we all lived, to comprehend-
The hands that primed our fold.
Let's me see thy intellect,
In webs of weened words-wise.
Weave to preen-why winter wept,
In deserts-rent drenched in lies.
Conceive for me, a divined dream-
In which grip gave wings to skies.
Set definites free-upon wavered breeze,
So fluctuation, has choice-polarized.
Believe ideas, give shapes for mind-
To form in us-past lives.
Release doubting-from realized being,
Bricking constructs,
For futures flex through time.
Imagine all completion,
As thy task to occupy-
Commingling among seasons,
A strung tether for sunrise.
Never cease the search for meaning-
Having found it quite defined.
Because near endless is the reaching,
Of unentities left breathing-seeking,
For your measured steps unclimbed...
