Keeper and his birds
horizon is a place that stays
in colour come of thirds
his staff in hand he made the climb
away from and towards his heart
exonerate or proof of crime
complicit equal parts
if only one could stay the time
progression in its place
if only one could breathe sublime
without from inner space
he saw within his blinded eyes
the troubles friends confront
in chasing after life's great prize
at which he freed a bestial grunt
and groan for all the aches of it
living with some hope in heart
it is no easy thing
yet it's what sets the rare apart
and that which makes us sing
he'd heard on whispered winds long passed
of scribes who wrote the way
for seekers and the one's who asked
of sky and its doorway
now leaning in to the ascent
so fraught with all that was
the wailing wolves don't e'er relent
there is no still because
of what still wants and needs to be
accomplished in our time
hasten unto something free
and clear of all the grime
far ahead an ancient haunt
a mountain's cave it's said
a beacon for all those who want
to grasp the ancient thread
that ties the "that" to all of "this"
to learn the way again
from discordance unto bliss
across temporal strain
Keeper mutters solemnly to wind
"lend me grace to guide the way
out of the hole we're in
where we're not meant to stay"
he'd learned it once, long years before
he'd muttered over embers
"We must move back 'cross skyway's door
in hopes the world remembers..."
the way...
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