sunkin
as high as the sun, catch a frequency. 1425
the plains are unending, stretching from dawn east to the set of west, brown grass, green accacia, we walk in screech of water, alters, we burn acacia barks in ceremony to search the deep, we sip from the cactus for the morning dew. ... stretching my eyes, the plains are unending, like the dream, free and untamed, here, we nomad, jumping into the chaos. its morning, the orange has announced itself, facing east, the sun is touching my eyes, from this height, I see the trees waving to a high. birds sing for heaven, golden keys for the waking dreamers, morning rushes with deep slowness, like a beautiful high, the drugons that live here in a different stream call the plains heaven. ... we are children of the sun, we came from the sun, nomads, travelling across streams, we guard the elephants, the plains carry our huts, we drink from the plants, we burn acacia barks to search the deep, we have maps of the in-between. we carry spears, not as weapons, they help us navigate the dream, the water has our ears, we dance outside when rain falls in cheer, our souls touch the earth, each step is a story of 1000 lineages, our blood carry stories of the ancient like the bible.