The Stuff

the stuff legends are made of mysteries from the skies lightning marks the spot as allusive as the thunder birds cry hidden in the rocks of time one warrior leaped through but many treasure hunters lost never find the clues silver and gold they cannot find blinded by their light like the protector of jealous fire do hidden warriors still fight as he saw the shape shifting men dawn their wings and fly like Hiawatha heavenly messenger The Great Peace they hide guarded by legends some are figures of the true but greedy men search for Jonathan swift's mine too on bloody ground maybe hidden in the blue jacketed hills of Kentucky Wyandotte Shawnee Iroquois Mohawks slayed the stories grow mucky or maybe some other ground may lay far through an ice cave rock art showing compass but in winter they lose their way from Solomon's mine or golden cities men do temporally search not leaving it behind like Boone's trail to seek the true church asking Jesus for truth and looking for the day that ends abrupt do not lay treasures upon earth where thieves steal and rust corrupts