When the heat shimmers off the asphalt
and the cracks in the roadbubble and ooze like the La Brea tar
waiting for this dinosaurs to dream in amber sleep...
the breeze blow hot, almost scratching your face
with dusty nails and crack lips
sweeping past your thoughts of the moment...
Wandering like a nomad in the desert
where sages have searched for answers
Did the realization come too late
or was it complacency that took them
off into history and mystery
masked in rumors and stupidity,
when history is being made right now?
We are all a part of eternity,
it is going past us even as we speak;
in tongues that have grown tired,
in lives lived too long,
in hearts too many times,
in souls searching to belong,
Like a shaman in the forest
hoping magic will win out
Potions, pleas and incantations
but never dancing before the fire
Glowing from the heat that's given
with stories i will gladly share
The word of mouth,
and old beginning,
the memories floating in the air...
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