I can see the pass from here,
Though it is but a slight trace
in its ten miles away!
Wishing on a star place, sacred to the life of Earth.
The trees lend themselves to our passing
To our standing near them.
The grass loves the hoof as much as the foot.
Not every yesterday is forgotten.
Nor are all sorrows knocking.
Many have abandoned the task,
under our long ago not letting them in. A firm stance...
in the light of these palm-tree like musings.
A lost worker,
inside this appointed slavery.
A hero petrified,
not by what is there as I look,
but by what will come if I do not.
A two tomorrow's choicest leavings
taken as manna... to last forever,
as I pray, high and wide... With a hubris that contains my fears.
With a melancholy that's lasted the years.
With a strange thought given straight out.
For a modern mind, on a wishing route.