S T E P S

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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