In those brief moments,
like the tips of un-hurried wings,
before the sun graces infinite waters with heat
and vibrant life,
there is a note unheard by any ear.
The sand knows this sound,
as does the ocean
and its distant depths.
The moon,
also,
rides the crests of that anomalous
singularity in time.
It is the twilight of dream;
the birth of thought.
Its tone is the same
as that which grew from within the medium
of our birth from the stars.
And it is the same shall greet us as,
fairer than feathers that wind does not let fall,
we gather up memories
and off to the source we have longed all our lives for.
Copyright 2004 Endifference
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