Changing wind and facing warning.
Of religion's deepest roots
Splitting fast and shaking loose.
Embracing time with old and new
Shapes and patterns, plucked and
Strewn about the golden fields
Of the wild and untamed road.
No words speak comfort like
The rhythm of the horse or
The wheel rolling musical, steady and
Slowing to feel the pain of the years.
Come east with me my departed friend,
And venture still through silent hills
That shaped your past like a lover's breast;
Abandon with me the words of the west.
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