The dreaded Winter Solstice has begun
and breezes echo through the Sacred Tree.
Marc Creamore writes to tell us what we’ve done
as calendars all stop in harmony.
Marc tries to see this change objectively,
he knows this is the coming of an age;
his warnings come in verses on a page.
The people gather in their sacred shrines,
Marc tells of monks that shed unwanted tears.
The wars have stopped, there are no borderlines
and news casts are obsessed with human fears.
The wheel of modern science now appears
to lose momentum slowing to a halt
and all the blame has shifted to a fault.
The bones of all the bridges are at rest
and transportation simply fades away.
The animals now seem to be possessed
and mock us as they pass the time of day.
The towers of the mighty show decay
as lovely flowers blanket them unfurled.
It's who Marc warned us of this brand new world.
Adding your comment:
with love & light~ Desire~*~
oh well!..it's still an amazing piece of work, and a nice dedication my friend.. 
