The Trace

We've come from further fields
& closer rolling skies
Descended mounting stairs
that peals of lightning rise
That flash without they leave
a trace before our eyes
Except the wounded world
that pain cannot disguise

And what the river does
is there no one thakt knows
Which way the current runs
& which the water flows
That those are not the same
though same they seem to be
The mountain is the mouth
the source is in the sea