Far below the surface of the waking
world, there lies a still and sleeping giant,
a slow unconscious vision of making
that exists beyond the mad defiant
whirlwind of apparent thought and vision;
before the dawn it stands, self-reliant
and free from the bonds of indecision,
watching each small step we dare to venture
with a compassionate derision.
It does not seek to scold or to censure,
but instead fills ordinary, small things
with a great longing for some adventure.
Only a rare few hear the song it sings,
and manage to evolve from slaves to kings.
26 JAN 2003
