What hope can be kept alive, what pure premonition, what irrevocable kiss sunk in our hearts acknowledging the roots of need and the intelligence, self confident and smooth on always muddied waters?
What live quick dreams of a new dream angel lock in our sleeping shoulders for perpetual posession. Our path between death's stars
thrust's us into the orbit of ages old.
The natural weakness of anxious and distrustful souls
fitfully crave some stay in time. Some space to fill.
Weariness and the implaccable heaping of ages flood over us like
the newborn ocean on empty beaches and weatherd shores.
We go on living and ceasing to live and then
peacfully aquiesce and not disturb the deep deep heartland we reserve for ourselves forever.
Let what we are in some way be, and at all times, may we remain, passionate witness's, and unending souls preserving pledges made, our original duty.
Federico Ullner ll
m2u