Oh you heart who follows the wind and expectation, who may predict or depend? What road we attend knowing with slight recant you will find allegiance, yearning and quest at the changing of season or breeze? What then the master of logic and plan. Schedules and to do lists dictating the hours in absence of miracle. Where is life in this grand scenario penned of man? What lay at the end of my own achievements if not material blessing or sense fulfilled? Planted those things that I may account to my own spread? What is preserved if heart untaught or fealty unknown?

Sullen and undetermined, fruits unripe, spotted or neglected. What joy to you seeks solace in vision of the rounded mountain? What skip bounces from step to step? What praise offered for the contentment that perhaps has never purchased? What hope in laws and frequence to sustain the moorings of the margrave? Have you forgotten the giggles and imaginary ambitions and the dreams of youth? Are there things you are afraid to know?

Courage now young one. Time marches whether you stand, step or slip. Breathe deep the power of pace irrelevant the rhythm of decay and entropy. All sound the fear and laughter of those who made naught kings. Din the cries of those stood watching, anticipating prayer and tears of the frightened. What homes or dwellings protected truly felt safety beyond the hands of evil? Where to in navigation would those go to find certainly in ledger, mind and spirit? Have we forgotten the war wages to ending of certain victory or seek we peace with enemies thus defeated? Why command armistice with those who shall dwell in darkness?

What heroes make we? Lifting up brides and captains crumbling. Handfuls of loam and shaken stirring. Drifting in mind, intent and mercy never sure of the horrors which sway the outcome. Into those gelled, malleable ponderings of yoga, mystics and magics. Resonance of deciphered normalcy doing what feels right in weight and measure. What gentle rock supports the formation of worlds, wind and forever? And to our just reserves is levity found in attendance to nature’s rules or call? Is there for a voice for which the choir tunes? In tandem with cycle, sound or beginning. Round the corner to madness or muse. Does tomorrow bring your rubbings of the lantern or the escape of wrath and judgment?