Crawling back into the dawn; with atoms disintegrating into the sun. As particles of fairy dust flung into the golden orange dying colours, melting endlessly into the lake; our outer shell, the monopoly mistake, breaking away and crumbling to clay, our heart of darkness in the light of day.
Under the cherry blossom trees, where seas of sand and leaves do rush and flow and whisper to the trees of an eternal poem in the eye of every bud. As lightning strikes the crimson kite, and ancient whispers underground have heard the sounds of whooshing waves that gave the parchments of our grave to the diamond of this moment.
Where we retraced the ancient symbols, and placed the pen upon these sliding slivers of sand; sifting through the ever forgotten, to the never-ending remembrance of the forever unwritten.
Where we sought the unspeakable sermon voiced in silence, migrating its masters to the domes and planes beyond their names; and a crash of silent thunder echoed in the vault.
Where a message from beyond the bond of our names, of the sea from which we came, was swallowed in the scented secrets of a sunset daze.
Where a voice to shape this thunder crashing on the shore, emanated from our core an eternal endless ever-repeating story; and the skin of our gory foot had really shed its boot.
Where in the eyeless centre of this broken foot the fossils of a timeless space are safe inside the sun; safe beside the bracken and the diplodocus leaves.
Where the king and sting of nettles is the centre of this circle; the ancient eye; the greater ocean.
Where eight great soldiers had been waiting for disintegrating, and reinventing the tension of their tender tendons.
And So:
With the extinction of the sun,
Another web is spun.
And with the birth of a new moon,
They’ve really bent the spoon.
To be at rest forever,
As a golden eye upon a lake;
At rest in the forever sunset
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