There are facts that are certain myths
In this country in the wind,
Where no fire blooms, except for the petal in your eyes,
Where the oil used to summon miracles,
Blows the seasons from their weather.

And the fishes swim in the sky
Where cities sail forth with God’s single breath;
On this country’s nameless mountain the quick rock
Declares the dream of the rain.

There are facts that are certain myths,
Voyagers of the tongue,
Such certainties untouched by the rushing spell
Of the friendly moon and the warring sun.

Copyright (C) 2008, Edwin M. Cordevilla