Found the station+, 1969; no one there knew.
Like Vin Diesel, passing through.
Had sighted high glens on the Mountains
of the sun; higher still, heaven glinting off.
Group-think-speak found at the station+,
while one white bird+ briefly lit, then
winged off beyond the Mountains, leaving
gilded men behind at the station+ in dark of fear.
Guild of group-think couldn't lock golden cage+,
while far off, wings shed for spirit freedom.
The station+ falls to dust of destruction,
with gilden men of group-spink found of oblivion.
--7/6/07
Autobiographical, poetic commentary emphasizing compassion,
ones search for truth &
that which cannot be found except from within…
Consider well the altruism found here (to the great chagrin of 'detractors').
©Copyright 2006-2022 by RK, Planetary Poet Laureate (of the end time)
Friday, July 6, 2007
Freedom or oblivion . . .

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