The Sun still rises,
Gateways do climb,
We rise to the top
Succumb to our high
Oh how nice, to be giants
On tops shoulder’s kissing skies
With Eyes locked on the Moon’s
Luck, who does devise, instantly
Constantly, remarkable ways
To live ours lives, gone
In an instant, it can all turn
Toss like the dice, Lady
Please be luck, like the Hierophant’s
Wife, The Priestess beckons
Open book on her thighs
We need not search for our names
Written already in the book of life
We delight, to our surprise
Welcoming, even the night.
Christopher Baird 2011 ©
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