LIMITLESS OUT OF THE DUSK by BROTHER CLEMENT

There are lightly moving rivers
Like blue air, too delicately clear
With liquid magic for breathing.

There are gold towers sliding up
The outer reaches of the ancient clouds.

@3The world is too still a place . . .
Too still@1 . . . I have a dream
That my dreamless head cannot hold!

And my dream is of a city riding high
Along the upper reaches of radiance,
Beyond the edges of the ancient darkness . . .

And there is no other dark,
There is no other city
Where the little white ships
Of the world come home.

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