Time fluttered on silver wings,
soaring among the memories of
seasons as dreams sifted the
lids.

Let the stir bring forth the storm
of weathers churning.Let the
grey rain the dusted plain of
sandstone peaks and ridges
high above the shadow’s
trace.

For, as hope calls in echoed
bray of the lathered mule,
so shall destiny shine the
clearing skies of shining
nights among the clothes
of a moon’s dance.

As the warrior cries
above the dunes, so shall
the owl in hunter’s trance
above the dead eyes of
the quivering mouse.