January 3, 2012

Thus a thousand exodus sagas start this way–

With sand within a burning wind,

And the next turn  bends

To a  new way  (though an ancient way)

To where the stars won’t lighten,

To where, because of the bluster, it’s  lookless,

To  not unlikely ends.


The sky is kinder,

The East kind of peels back dark veils.

Stars, just bright, One  must/might  Order one’s day,

One praises one’s rest,  musters resolve,

Sits up, Stands up  to new winds, one cruel sun, &

Starts  determined, destined  steps.



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