Let the scent of an ancient text enchant you,
A recipe of Dust, Age, Wisdom, and Falling leaves.
Black Willows without their faces,
Wells that were dug too deep
Until they drew up liquids other than water.
Streams that switch the direction of their flow,
Regularly, once ever thousand years.
All these landmarks on the Map which is only
The ever bearing pages of this book.
White Dragons that breathe Blue Fire
Fly over my head like insects,
Searching for their home inside the Moon.
Fall into this world, the only true one at the moment.
Let the words reach up and Entangle you in their vines.
Author notes
*shrug* TAll of the starting materials for this came from my work at Cty. Yes, I am going to talk about that for the next month.
Written July 16th, 2005
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