Published 17·11·24
Where bay meets river in tranquility,
And jade hillsides, they do rise,
Where the spires atop the Resource themselves ascend
Home grown below ancient skies,
And in our ways, fine and convoluted yet still
Those that climb a sine to crest,
The tantune of yester lost
May lay in wait and far from irretrieve.
Light crashing through the Temple Faces, doors silent, welcoming,
Eyes close to the Pacific surface-
Days long past, preserved for later eyes
The fixates of the fixated, of clust aplenty.
Once an elevated lift with crystal, tubing walls,
Their Central Tower now, a peaking beacon,
The temple steeple, slight and inoffensive reaching, faced a darkened coal,
His clust-grown office wall.
The dimmed corners of the upper templehouse
Of the Monarch’s immortality,
A living portway where concave roofs
Play sentry to the sea.
Square and mainway, whose heights have climbed, aside
Full Eras, poignant and long
By nightlit ways amidst the tree of emerald,
The press, who tread along them.
Unhurried footfall that fair bridges span,
All structures house with keen abode,
All galleries home to wonder, and filled full
That our pondrous spirits rest.
Sloping lower paths, they open at the chance,
Tall heart entries from oblong
At dusk on rooftops some
Happens that look over down.
Our Resource! This all and giving host
The turbin below, its gyre all for us;
What turns of time, the cloth satura with
Public our everlasting mainways!
The turn of twilight olden come
Our geome mountains undule atop,
And all the while our kin beleft, in prior tries
Our stolid ground they covet.