Down the southern roads we ran
Swift forgetting all our past
>From the red engulfing horror
To the sea and safety, fast
Loosed again one glorious morning
By Amalthea, the Last
Turned again unto our forests
For the violet sup, repast.
Now the time is gathering nearer
When away our hoof beats ring
>From the forests of beginnings,
>From the pools of bubbling spring,
Cross the northern Triune Hillside
With the loved ones that we bring
To the future set before us,
To the destiny we sing,
To the Master, Friend, and Maker
Of the Northlight bright, glist'ning.
Listen now my fondling stranger
To the chorus of the night,
To the singing of the wonder,
To the sound of justice bright,
To the laughter of the seashore,
To the knell of Truth and Right,
To the rhyme of Reason sounding
With a pure unchanging light.
Sing along if you would follow.
sing with all your heart and might.
Gene Pippenger April 15th, 1980
excerpt from cycle XVII of To April
And from Marti I have learned
Flying wings cannot be earned.
Unicorns do learn to fly
When place, not time, doth pass them by.