Soot, patience, and the dim whirling of stars
make a destiny for even you,
the sole heir

to all of histories sunken steam ships,
tomorrow’s breaking sunshine,
and from darkness, a diamond cut
to the inward shape of mystery:
so clear, brilliant, rare.

Indestructible soul kaleidoscope.

Upon the anvil, the hammering
hand of fortune casts
an oroborus of tergiversation,
binding your lucky hand
to giving all away.

One sun, and even you,
blazing upon a horizon of no facet:
so clear, brilliant, rare.

And caverns of diamonds above.

– written by Michael Gaio, 

September 29, 2003