Ramblers Do Abound
2012, Olan L. Smith (edited 2016)
She comes in ports to manifest,
A wharf where angels dock;
Sensations soar and heaven says
To caring, feathered flocks;
Our spirits mingle she reveals
Her silken skin is fused;
Her snowy visage veils request.
"Your name?" I asked confused.
'Tis I Astarte lover queen;"
And she does live to morn'
From here to there, and 'neath
Thus time and space does mourn;
'Tis neither life nor death it binds;
I live and do bestride
A Universe where alpha's tail is bound
And here I do reside.
As heaven's gates unbolts I ask,
"Why am I on this biosphere,
Finite and fragile?" She replies,
"We come to you sincere,
Within a vast and structured void,
Becoming god in birth
And know a death our fate employs.
E'er wanderers with mirth
Within the multiverse, succinct
To be alive most brazenly
Our symbols on kings defunct
And live as mortals free,
Between a minute will attach
As humans form their thought
Your dreams and memories unknown,
We made exchange and brought
This kindness heaven's cause,
Our love is countless things around,
Amidst our thriving souls aware
The ramblers do abound.