The simple transforms
the innoncense fleeting
like the memory of a dream
as the hand reaches
to something that is lost

there in the midst
wisdom is born
like a child
who will not touch the flame
like a phoenix
born from the fire
to fly on the airy wings of mind
that will not allow
the wing-less descent
to an earthen grave...

...a burial of the dream-shapes
a burial of the spirit dancing
struggling in the dust
to breach
against the suffocating night
and the haunting shapes
of the chained-ones
carrying their crosses
to earth-bound graves
faces pressed to the glass
at the end of the consciousness
to see the spirit stripped
naked in the face of destiny
- the essence of the earth-soil
--- this night will be long...