On my own dime
The stars know the patterns glow the roots must grow after the rain the seeds have been lain upon the fields that were barren plains that once did yield one at the gate almost too late was a pass handed over though unplanned, it was fate Yet still navigated through the pendulous chill and the compass was negated by the inquisition still when fighting for survival is seen as but a crime not entitled to revival I'm on my own dime - S. Rose Ashcraft