Gold from the Word: The Sowing of Suns

 


Believing is seeing,

Being where I will start the play. 

Picturing I in beautiful places 

Dancing amongst joyful loving pretty faces. 

From these words the ingredients mix,

Milling melting moldering gold,

Forming the ideal figures for me to sow. 

To birth forth words children for eyes watch grow.

Enjoying enjoining my minds winning why,

Always dominating victoriously the sky. 

My kin these words in God seeds I. 

Each letter pressed, breathing time,

Molded, shaped, ascendingly climb.

Dancing on top the air is me,

In rhythm the stars reflecting thee.

From thought to breath, from steam to form,

The fire of faith keeping thy soul warm.

Milling, melting, molding bright,

Figures rising from speaking light.

A harvest rich in sound and sight,

Rooted deep yet taking height.

For in the sky, my kin beside,

Words of God, the Sun’s own pride.


 











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