This is what calls to us now,
the edge,
the flame,
the beckoning.
Soon, we will set aside
the time of steeping,
step out of the broth of becoming,
and set forth,
our eyes on a distant horizon,
the call of crows in our ears,
the light of purpose
kindled and alive,
burning insistently
in our chests.
It is time,
it is time,
it is time,
the persistent rhythm
that tugs us onward.
