You have to believe we are magic.
Nothing can stand in our way but ourselves.
We are musical frequencies
The zodiac wheel of twelve.
In thanks to the four directions
I'd sing open the visceral cage.
The songs fly straight to me, telepathically
from a carousel turning age upon age.
Come reunite and harmonize
all the changes to be made.
Everything we sing is from above
preserving life like a summer rain.
The Guardians bequeathed the talking sticks
to bless our way beyond Jeddito.
A meeting place of the Masters.
From middle earth they come and go.
No comments:
Post a Comment