Softly, woman... rise

In the wake of the Phoenix's tail

A meeting of four places,
Each mountain a women
Each ocean a woman
The middle road lies between her breasts.
It is the cardinal point of all great things,
Each horizon must claim its crown.

The north, south, east and west.
Each direction bears the title -

Here we stand.
In a single point of time,

holding all of existence in our pockets.

Somewhere among the trinkets we've carved,
And the treasures of heart honey we've kept.
Is the scroll of our soul.

Each moment ricochets

memory merging in saturns rings. 

The vortex of timelessness
Sucking all into singularity
Into a billion explosive moments
Of new beginnings. 

Like a war waged against the essence,
Crouched in the shadows of old trenches and burnt down bunkers,
On the forefront of a feeling
Old skins are laid to rest.

Now Surrendered to the pulsing ways

Of heavens ceaseless fire,
As divinity breeds,
Like creatures of calligraphy,
into gatekeepers of this story,
Into pillars of light.

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