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?