Bathed in fountains of fire,
	We fly
	Through Time's abyss,
	Each faceted
	Like an angelic gem,
	Twinkling,
	Blinking on and off,
	As lives follow one another
	Under sun after sun.
	We glow with inner light
	That pales each mighty orb
	From which we absorb
	In body
	What the spirit cannot give.
	We are the cart,
	Our souls, the driver.
	We are the shell
	That protects an eternal soul-snail,
	Which from life to life
	Builds evermore intricate chambers
	Of thought and deed.

7/14/77

© Fred O'Bryant. All rights reserved.

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