(Seattle, WA., USA)
Two sides of of sacred, fleeting Earth
One end of time, the other
So many thousand years ago,
A peaceful, pleased and aged man
Peers deep in to the ancient night,
The inky sky will echo back, with
Laughing, shining jewels and say:
I’ll fill the little Vessel in your hands now,
For you’re to come forever after Home.
I’ll place the rhythms of your time
And all the music in your mind
The magic of your stories and your wisdom,
in your Cup;
The colors of your family, and
Richness of your seasons, the
Passion of your heady dreams, and
Wishes lost, inside;
The musings of your closest friends,
Your banter by the evening fire, the
Pieces of your lives and
Love you keep, I’ll place inside;
All your riches settle
In the Cup of blackened stone
The essence of your Soul
Will keep, inside.
So many thousand years go since, and
I, I’m walking westward there,
Surprised to find I stumble in the road.
Underneath my hands,
What do I see as I get up,
But the glinting of the sun
Upon a little blackened Cup.
I feel compelled to sit beside the
Road and hold it still, and as I do
the rhythms of his life inside me spill;
The magic of his stories and
The wisdom of his years…
I sense the ancient seasons
And my eyes sting now with tears
I look into a sunlit sky and
Hear a whisper soft;
An echo of a message to a
Soul long since aloft.
I hold the Vessel high above
My head, eons gone by, and
Wonder who I am to have this
Present from the sky.
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