I am an ebony and petoskey storyteller
from a time that only red clay and petrified crystals
can recall.

The first age of brilliance
is the burnt lemon horizon of daybreak
over a hot porceline mug of Kona Blend.
To this I bid you good morning.

Notations and sketches have faded
with long ago memories jotted into the margin of
one of my pre-animism notebooks, parchment journals,
or heiroglyphic graffitti tagged walls
of my childrens temples

I speak but all that traverses the atmosphere
is a mismatching current of gusts of
HI's and Lo's
masquerading as truths and lies.

Still, I yearn for the Champions of Light.
Ye that begets the knowledge that darkness
exists only in the absence of YOU.
Step forward,

Deep. You. Fly.

Put your windchimes out tonight...
Tomorrow I shall bring the gales of truth,


I'll bid good morning to you
O' Champions of the First Age.
Time to rise again.

________________________________________
"With peace and love in my lungs,
I hold my breath until the Poet returns."

--Boxcarboys