Between wrinkled brow and smiling cheek
His eyes are deep and bright.
Perched upon the coastal cliffs
He waits until the night.
When moon and star will change the light
To play amongst the waves,
Which rush to shore, as though in haste,
To hide inside the caves.
The rhythmic crash of sea on stone;
This sacred ebb and flow,
Thickens the delicate tether's pulse
As resonance begins to grow.
The wizened monk knows the signs,
And feels the familiar vibration,
As the tether roots itself;
A moment of fear and elation.
In the depths, of his curious mind,
Seeds begin to sprout.
Visions bloom on the ocean green;
Spirits of hope and doubt.
A thousand years.
A single night.
The visions flicker and fade.
The stars blink out.
The sky turns pink.
Birth beyond ocean glade.
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