Where the River Runs

Who searched through all asylums for their ancient sanity
To blossom into mirrors of divinity,

Who ran their paintbrushes through sands of time
To spill their colour on our ancient crime,

Who sprawled and crawled across the crackened tiles
To flood into the diamond water of the Nile,

 Who dissolved into their thick sienna sleep,
Into threaded dreams, and those ceruleans secrets that we keep,

Who danced exultant through the sultan's magic chords,
And fell into enchanted orchards of the lord,

 Who gazed into the bottom of the spyglass puzzle
And saw beyond the games of master's whip and timebound muzzle,

Who saw their names engraved on Amazonian oak
In a timeless tale embroidered in those words we spoke,

Who heard a droplet in the lake of silence,
Through aching ears of aging violence;

 Who spun their webs beyond the orbit of control,
And exploded in the eyelid of a blackened hole,

Into hollow caves of lightning burst
That echo with an ancient thirst,
Inhaling all the hail of breath and birth
Reflected on the hillsides of the earth,

Who raged with the creative whim
To see the endless forms this wheel can spin;
And witness as this great design unfolds within,
Where the embers of an era, are about to begin.