Wind is high in the open, and it's shifting the sands... No intervention divine is present on the circus tonight. As the words fall into rhyme, I urge you to follow the floating path over the ember - to the star-stud amphitheatre - and
bow: to meet the Godess, smooth and slender.

Mother of Rome, delight of Gods and men,
Dear Venus that beneath the gliding stars
Makest to teem the many-voyaged main
And fruitful lands [...] 1

In the white, smothering silence, as a shimmering mirrage, there's an old man with his duty: stand and watch. In his hand - one thousand wrinkles and a bag of water, a soothy cloth and a broken quill:
‘Perhaps you will?..’

In two parts - that's a rule - mindless vessel and seeds
In the right light and breeze sprouts are out, thought unleashed
Like in the eyes of a wild and frightened beast a foreboding dawns
of things above and things beyond,
through cleft in time sensation of the absolute is born

... it's easy! The scent of copper, the sound of sunset
and the rustle of the sand grains, the distant dreams of drowning rains
...it's easy! [In the careful breathing of the scorched dunes]
the mighty heights there to reach is all about the message I preach

Time is your mirror; go ahead - take a look inside,
tear the veil and reap those skies,
let the cargo and the vessel unite, as the two worlds collide,
melt the chains. There's no turning back at birth-cry...