Prophecy

In the deep of the night the shaman came

And taking my thin one in his large hand,

He led me to the top of the highest hill,

The silent guardian to that lonely land.

He built a fire and stood, keeping his silence,

Raising his outstretched arms towards the Vault.

I looked up at him and in surprise,

I saw the signs and the wrinkles of the time

From his strong , open face fading away,

And he was tall and firm, into a new shape :

A warrior mighty, powerful, again young.

He smiled at me and then began to speak

In a haunting , deep voice,

“ Listen to me : those lights up in the sky

will be your guides and help all along your trail.

For you remember belong to the stars ,

And to the stars you’ll return in the stated day.

He stepped back , the wind lifting his hair

And a ancient chant erupted from his chest ,

Then nodded slowly and turned to the west.

“There is your path, young brave, “ he softly said,

“ But it won’t ever be a far easy way

for in your wide, soft, blue, sorrowful eyes

I see only Love.

So seeking for the truth,

Please, keep your heart at bay, my chosen son,

And with the strength of the gold, bright sun,

Your weakness into a big power will be turned.

~end~

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© Sept 2004, Chris.
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