those that lived before us
they were born of dust
scraped from high chilean peaks
warmed by the temple sun
and washed by the mountain ice
they spoke in prayers
carried by the wind for a thousand years
and from their souls came wisdom
brilliant-white and pure
how has this history found us
like a dark coffee fog swelling in the distance
waiting in the stillness
for such a time that finds us all
wasted in our revelry
just so many hours far removed
here among the quickening lights
what lies behind those ancient eyes
those flecks of circled glass
piercing stony hearts
our deepest wishes known
and in those new year’s old
when love was soft and warm
did they dream of us in our future
i think not so much perhaps
rather do i imagine
when the moon rang out at midnight
they pulled close the one’s they cherished
and held them breathless-tight
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 12/31/13
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