Those thin strands, those gossamer threads,
webs of a kind, would not hold us.
We would flit about like moths.
We would break away.
Before the Pharaohs ruled the world,
we watched lightning flash through the blowhole
of an ancient whale.
We saw riders fall from the clouds like snow.
We heard voices hum to a tune from long ago.
We saw the moon drift over desert dunes.
We traversed oceans.
Later we saw Christ crucified and darkness fall.
We descended with the dead but now we rise,
luminous, transfigured, stars.
