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Sep 2017
Near the raging valley and storm-lit low land
Where trees twist and rivers climb
With hands wet and withered by sand
I seal a footprint in the salty brine.

On an unknown morning with ropes coiled
With knots undone and sheet-lines free
As the main-sail fills with a single sweet breath
A far away sigh heralds forth an anointed plea

And thrice I hear a call: “To Eternity,
Eternity, Eternity.”

On a sojourn beyond this heavy gale
To an invite written in the ink of love
My soul slips quietly on the uncharted sea
Heeling on the whisperings of mercy

Taking flight to a new found fate
Moving silently as tides rise freely                    
Where an unsoiled spirit awaits
By the light which foils the last sky

I thrice hear the call: “To Eternity, Eternity,
Eternity”
Frank L N
Written by
Frank L N  M/Auburn, NY
(M/Auburn, NY)   
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