The Vale of Unveiling

As winds the stream 

So wends the trail.

Near dawn, damp with fog,

Mists prismatic toss

Multihued tinsel o’er

The uncertain Sun.

Morning magic’s turn

As Night settles in 

For its daily dreaming 

And I’m faced with 

A new view of waking 

Fields, shaking off their 

Misty beards to greet

Another naked day.

Dawn wanderer, I,

Traversing paths my 

Fathers first blazed

In the time before mine.

I seek to meet 

The totems of

Their souls, set as

Spirit markers that 

Must be harkened to. 

This journey is mine 

Own, alone to catch 

The clues and omens 

I shall require to

Surely scry my way

From trail to sky 

With my visions etched 

By eyes three inside 

My mind, and so done,

At the meet and 

Proper time, from 

This vale shall I

Climb, to lay all bare

Before the gaze of 

RA, unafraid of

Honest judgment.

If I’m deemed whole 

Then I’m holy for 

This day, leaving naught

To do, until the morrow

When I’ll cleanse

Myself anew.