The Journey

As we spoke through clouds of billowing smoke,

And gave our frozen hearts back to the centre,

Where, reflected from assembled faces,

The fire illuminated history’s traces;

And begged the wheel to spin a new beginning,

To ride upon these music notes a remembrance

Of our deathless grinning, and fold our features

Into the sand – of how the moth and light do understand.

As we left our sleepless nights so serenely wrapped,

In canoes that rafted through eternal autumn,

Of a realm before the search was mapped,

As we blinked our baby eyelids on the purest auburn shores,

And wept to find how the wheel had turned before

To bring the outcasts to their shelter,

And drench them in such heaven’s weather;

To leave their loves behind, and be reborn within the tide,

Of timeless people woven in a net of skin,

Who read behind the signs and found the kingdom touched within.

As we begged for more, but had to face the films,

Of how we were stranded on the shore,

And had to gather our things, and become the people

Who had seen with teary eyes and braven heart,

And could peacefully pursue the roles that we had wrote.

To hold the lantern just for those to learn;

Of how the ghosts ascend the stairs.