High chime,
Aquiline 
Slice thru the time
Slide thru the pines
I’m one with the mind  

Golden sun thuds onto dead concrete
Everyone walks upon a golden street
The empire buildings either side of us are our wings
Each tiny brick of them would fit in the palm of our hand
Here we stand with the spirit of God within us 
Awaiting the reality of this self-awareness
To catch up with us in the years before 
We fade away

February 29th, 2020. Manhattan, New York.