After a thousand elaborate deaths we awaken 
to embrace another morning of aches, 
another life in a day of strange wakes.

It is there where we find the deep river of questions 
shining as all the wild essential rhythms stream 
like sun flooding into a secret garden.

Ancient winds soothe the swaying reeds 
on the edges of this forgotten pond, 
always speaking for the shadows of yesterday.

Hidden in the heart tides is an empty, hungry child,
held prisoner by the feverish rains of responsibility,
praying that we will not continue to sleep through
the miraculous journey into emerging creative voids.

Every breath pierces the soul with music while
translucent visionary universes flicker into being.
Perhaps these frantic dreams will soar as 
marble pillars of passion, stone by sacred stone,
for the future to behold.

But who will play the next vibrant role if we 
neglect our vows in the great play of the soul?
Who will dance beneath the broken field of stars?

It is here in this world pool of vision that we must
rip through the lingering mist of lonely forests to
arrive at the shores of remembrance...