I write as the north wind chills a January air, early dawn
as the sun does rise in the eastern gates and a Rocky Mountain fair,
my soul carries a remembrance of the earthly pond during the terrain’s commencements –
and, a trauma dream, hidden in a haze of fiery schemes.
The epoch of years unbearably seizes the morning and the night.
I am touched by the fiery chariot told by Elijah to my mind, and
sifting through to my heart.
A new day is upon me, Sophia has found life
within my heart, my being of love and light, and now –
to witness to the world a testimony of faith, courage, and promise
in the Holy name of the Great Sustainer, the Immortal One
who gives new eyes to the un-born?