Ramblers Do Abound

2012, Olan L. Smith (edited 2016)

She comes in ports to manifest,

A wharf where angels dock;

Sensations soar and heaven says

To caring, feathered flocks;

Our spirits mingle she reveals

Her silken skin is fused;

Her snowy visage veils request.

"Your name?" I asked confused.

'Tis I Astarte lover queen;"

And she does live to morn'

From here to there, and 'neath

Thus time and space does mourn;

'Tis neither life nor death it binds;

I live and do bestride

A Universe where alpha's tail is bound

And here I do reside.

As heaven's gates unbolts I ask,

"Why am I on this biosphere,

Finite and fragile?" She replies,

"We come to you sincere,

Within a vast and structured void,

Becoming god in birth

And know a death our fate employs.

E'er wanderers with mirth

Within the multiverse, succinct

To be alive most brazenly

Our symbols on kings defunct

And live as mortals free,

Between a minute will attach

As humans form their thought

Your dreams and memories unknown,

We made exchange and brought

This kindness heaven's cause,

Our love is countless things around,

Amidst our thriving souls aware

The ramblers do abound.