waded to wait wayward we fly past tall buildings of water of living light we know them feel them are them but do not know them as our own we turn obligatory circles whispers reach us and we learn
amongst the ferns we wicker and scare yearning for the little finger chance to pay us mind our due but overdue is our submission to grace of abundance our invitation to everlasting the times of coming
who is death? no enemy of time, only consequence a neutral effect of life life affected by the nature of its being i question death as only life i know for certain only where i am only passage. to tri