a river of stars

scatter down platypus
and rage on tecumseh
a star has fallen
on the ground
ancient campfire
history is mystery
and out of the mists
strides the shaman
there was a time
before he was born
when hearts blazed like
pieces of the sun
he was unknown
as the disease
he was conjured to cure
then men were seduced
not by women
but by myth
the belief in clay
instead of spirit
guile before power
the myth destroys
the message and we
forget who we are
and where we are going
the shaman helps us stoop
to hoist the divine mantle
that has drooped from
our sagging shoulder
an arrow thru the moon
and tender wears the sky
its clouds a thousand
garments hung upon
the celestial guy
with a gasp or
with a cry
we shall yet enjoy
the simple pleasure
of falling awake
in our sleep

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