In the ruins of afterthought,
I lay awake, refusing sleep.
through the valleys and hills,
seeking sustenance for my soul:
I was raised by rebels, learned
where man was most meager,
and taught myself to feed off love,
to drown the shrill voices
of anger and ignorance,
in the bloom of roses and dalliance.
and like a good rhyme, reason
found order and symmetry.
We told each other the same things,
with every new day, we would lay, rest assured:
we were beautiful, creating, creation.
we know no day and night,
only the sun and moon in their eternal ecstasy.
and when eclipses were our days,
we all became moons decaying in our orbits,
evolving into the light—
ever-travelers come up,
to where the flatlands spread,
and spread the breadth of your shielding wings,
arise to your respective heights,
and plant firm your roots in richest soil.