postmodern

postmodern

Saturday, February 20, 2010

Rising in pure fire

Walk swiftly with the staff of life
This world is mightier than death
Though we stand in the cold gray rain
Forever before the high gates of love

Light succumbs not to shades of time
Besieged by each ravished moment
Whose whispered beauty conquers all
Marked in solitary seconds, one by one

Till every thought of heaven pales
For there is but one bliss, one water
One sweet sea whose bright colors
Speed toward the thundering dawn

Whose ancient altars feed all
Rising in pure fire with the  earth
Filled with memories of distant oblations
Arise! And live free, among the winged

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