Raise the Morning
Let a million suns trace my arm
Let them grace the shadow
Gift the eye of glass and flesh
The Great and Low, the Faultless alike
The Notorious and the Fettered
Bare them credence
For they self-described or common
Care not for moon or assemblage of star
Care not that rest shroud them or the angels keep
But this promise, circadian, their soul does chant
Awake
For fly thy dreary, thy hopeful, thy course I must
Be I Icarus or the very enthralled of distant deepest sky
In you I careful rest
For you I wait
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
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