Counted moon's pace settled in heaven's grounds of a solid expanded stone.
And the leaves rustled past, then, they were lost in the darkness taking the light.
Are they faded? Are they forgotten? And still buried is an archaic bone.
Never too familiar, never to pass memory's eye, while folded in every shred of night.
Somewhere out of what's shown.
Cold magnet wrapped in fire, gold, grain and vapor of the world in flight.
Astounding tales that came to live and destined to never die, way of star does flow.
How solid now does your feet stand on a place and in a time, in a glimpse of sight?
Remember roaming beasts walked alongside mankind, we can become, we shall foreknow.
Somewhere out of what's blind.
And mountain rose to climb and small crater upon which your feet fell.
The skies opened overhead, and in shells was found spores, they fled back to their doors.
Befriend those who give nourishment to the soul and the flames that within dwell.
Some clutch relics of their lost kingdom of shadow, their fate leading roundabout course.
Somewhere out of the shell.
The path to the journey, a scale of a two mass and center force, the same key you seek.
Top point and bottomside underfoot, over rainbow's arch subdued and cast.
That time counts not in deep ways, it goes underneath every path, its grasp is weak.
Bring its claw, tooth, and horn from your bones and set foot from the past.
Somewhere out of the bleak.
Giants in gold armor, figures faint and gray to broad darkness descending.
In hazy horizon, seeing Orion, guided by stars take your oar, and use your bow.
Listen with care, the tones have faded into the silent roots, yet no word of ending.
Turn of moon, of midnight and shade, time collects dust in dead hours slow.
Somewhere out doom impending.
Who are they who demand all to show, and all to know, with no word of fate?
Running circles they repeat but in their hearts they've closed their eyes.
While there's something beyond the night and something hidden behind the day.
The same echo of long ago, faded yet sounded new, despite shell's disguise.
Somewhere, not an early hour, not a late.
And they who hide among the night sky cast strange longings in my eyes.
I've been on the rounded slope of sky before, somehow I know.
Echoes ring out after the pouring of the sea, and song began in layers of skies.
Long missed relics of earth beneath settled dust I bring again to bestow.
Somewhere out of need for the wise.
I have gazed into the shell before and gazed along its outer floor.
In what is older than chapters which claim they are now passed away.
The span of time's place and presence have turned and counted more.
And I fled back to whisper a rhyme of what it may have had to say.
Somewhere out on the spanning shore.
Make your feet follow your will, begin burning and take mass-shadow down.
Stand before the expansion, beyond its ends, follow impossible bends.
Behold yourself a victor upon a peak that has never touched the ground.
Somewhere even with a whisper, even with the tide, the signals sky sends,
Somewhere out on waves of sound.
When reaching out to time's range, await! Await! Seek the dreaded heights of heaven,
When you have found your heart and found in it no wrong.
And compassion in the ways that warm the frosts of despair, you find it then.
Awake! Aware! For the simple love to keep learning the way of song.
Somewhere out of time so long.
Anywhere out of time, out of day or night, never to mask memory's eye.
We see faraway and long ago we saw what is now, here we see things distantly.
Then when we are distant we peer back, we give pause, a look behind.
Over countless landscapes, to here, and all this while to escape persistently.
Somewhere out of time.
Speak truth, deny death, see through its design.
Guide your feet well, run upon crumbling grounds.
Climb onto steeper walls of mountain stone and find,
The place time is conquered, reaching far above the clouds.
Somewhere out of time.
©Iggy 1988
