Pining to be loved / I sought asylum within these pages / Every line, every word, every rhyme / Was a reflection of the sorrow that ruminated / Beyond the looking glass. / Yes, I fathomed I was alone without a / Guiding star, without a lodestar to lead the way, O, but now I am liberated / By The Sovereign of Songbirds / Who solaces me by his mellifluous musicality. / (Yes, I am free) /
Soaring beneath the stratosphere, thermosphere, mesosphere, and exosphere / I saw all the suffering underneath the sun / And remembered what it was like to slumber. / Rest is something I took for granted / Feeling it was only forged to flee lament; oh, but that is only half the freedom / Of truth: Yes, we are reborn when we slumber. / So lull me and lead the way; furthermore, I am liberated. / The Sovereign of Songbirds enspirits me / By the clairron lullaby, by His voice. / (O, I am free) /
Dreaming, I lost sight of all that made me human; / Limitations forgotten, I drifted heavensward. I forsook / All I held beloved. / Why must phantasy mean sacrifice? Must the fantast / Be sundered in order to claim transcendence, ascendence? / Yes, I was burned by The Incendiary Sun but / My heart has survived. It leads the way to liberty. / I am risen by The Sovereign of Songbirds who resurrects me. / I am summoned from the ashes like a Phoenix Rising. / (O, I am free) /
(Se’ lah)
Excelsior Forevermore,
Sanders Maurice Foulke III, AAS
10/29/2020
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