That came from the north
Circled round my head
And settled thus forth.
Where do you come from?
I asked in denial
For surely such birds
Come but from the Nile
And the eldest of which
Had a beak long as time
Gave a long quivered "KA!"
And a toothless old smile.
We come from the Earth
He said, with small squinty eyes
We are the beginning of time.
When the universe converged,
we were the rhyme.
What did he say? I was caught unawares
I was staring at their wing span
A citizen unprepared.
We are but the seasons.
Winter is my name.
Spring is the youngest of us all
And Summer is the most tame.
If you want to see our colors,
Fall is the one to ask.
His plumage is of rainbows
A very noble task.
Baffled as much
By the talk and the banter
I looked upon the birds
And gave a bit of laughter
So why do you fly here
Of all places.
There is nothing for you here.
Old man winter has no season
And your tame summer has no fear.
Spring is but a faded thought
Like an antique picture
Lost and bought.
Fall came once to show his feathers
But lost them all
In a casino measure.
So I ask again old stork
For there is no use for you now.
Why do you come, and how?
It was not for your eyes
Or your eyes alone.
We come to take our nature back
For true beginnings are our throne.
Time it seems
Has forgot to turn
And your eyes it seems
Doth burn and yearn.
For something though you know not what
Something you forgot
Something you never bought.
And here we stand
Four storks on the fence.
One North, One South
One East, One West.
We are the direction.
We are the way.
We are the measure time forgot.
That you led astray.
No comments:
Post a Comment