We have eternal \u2018monicas that sing.
\nAn icy cloud is growing over the South.
\nOut of the woods the Sun creates a ring
\nThough which the river dances in its mouth.<\/p>\n
We’ve rowed this dream one hundred times before.
\nWe’re made of the same blood that’s in the stars.
\nWhat does it take to sail through the gold door
\nBack to a life that always has been ours?<\/p>\n
The pink clouds are the signal you sent up.
\nThere’s something missing from this story line.
\nThere must be something in that holy cup.
\nThe same as Gilgamesh’s sacred vine.<\/p>\n
We dive below that sea on every night
\nThat Tristan oneday sees her sail is white.<\/p>\n
\u00a92013 Stephen K. Pickering<\/strong><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" We have eternal \u2018monicas that sing. An icy cloud is growing over the South. Out of the woods the Sun creates a ring Though which the river dances in its mouth. We’ve rowed this dream one hundred times before. We’re … Continue reading