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Foreseen
and your young men shall see visions and your
old men shall dream dreams.
—Acts 2:17
She stood unflinching,
a silver figure in the heart of a waterfall.
I gazed in wonder
my frail form shaken by the roar.
A winged lion flew out of the raging rapids
its outstretched claws plucking me off a high ledge.
Carried upon a disappearing sky
I thought of my son
how he foresaw this dream of mine.
Now in my infirmity she returns to me
incased in an argent fire.
I knew then that we had delivered a child
who's spirit would melt this iron kingdom
and I then must dwindle away.
Your mother has grown younger
you are ageless.
Now you look from a shining mirror
seeking an aged
long spilled seed.
Copyright ©
Eric Ashford
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