sweep the mountains of all sorrow
encompass compass
let direction decide un/divide
the unconquered we
the children, divine a route
through/to perfect harmony mute
for in towns now sleeping
naked underbelly exposed
in rippled corridors of light latitudes
carrying broken attitudes
owning everything including
failure to assimilate with ancients
waking spying shying undying civilisation
sits forever forgotten in aged care homes and hidden homesteads
watered by rolling rivers in northern hills
these too many hearts and hearths standing
unsheathed and empty
and infinite at dusk
looking sidelong/ingly
to long distant fuller dawns
with a becoming bucolic plague
revealing buried inheritance from forebears
of forebears who forswore forwent without
to give all to phantom cutout tomorrow hopes
including terror memories
all leading to our now one day bubonic rage
where we shake our fists on empty page
to see we are all but pawns
standing forever so on our limited green lawns
crying crying for shame for shame
but who of us would not be born?
sweep encompass unconquer divine:
there is a route to harmony
but first we must get born.

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