There must be a place (but I've yet to find one)
beneath the Sol-drawn dawn of autumn skies
where cut-throat trout still find the heart to run
and the fullness of Summer's life never dies.
There, as if Earth had changed rotation,
Instead of honey, nature gathers dew
and composes a world without notation.
Unlike the life of old, this work is new.
Vernon the aqua fox,
swim fast 'ere Summer's fall;
wade wide-streamed Autumn's lull.
Your rust red coat and socks
of white will fade at snowfall's call
and, hunting just to keep kits full,
at moon you'll howl and nip but fail
at Winter's icy onslought gale.
These equal days of light and dark
will soon make way
for short days and stark
with cold and biting winds,
"Banish the word 'struggle' from your attitude and your vocabulary. All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.
We are the ones we have been waiting for." — Hopi elders
Sponsored by
mindbringer
Mission
We're on a mission from God. It's dark outside, we're wearing sunglasses. Hit it!
