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Up I climb, into the skies. Spent some time as mother’s eyes. Shared her breath, my legs they hung. Spent some time as mother’s lung.
From up on high, the ascendants cry, of happiness and truth, here they are young as youth. All is temporary, they cannot be stationary. Descend, the ascendants of the peak. From down below, the descendants search, yearning for that heavenly perch. Upward, their gaze to the sky, longing to give another hearty cry.
At the feet of giants, I am born. Forever torn. At the feet of giants, I grow. To this world I must show. At the feet of giants, I acquire. Knowledge. Though they call me a liar. At the feet of giants, I shrink. Have I found the link? At the feet of giants, I rest my eyes and slumber. Hard as lumber.
Teddy Dondanville 