a.k.a. ... The Chronicles of the Telomeres
There are so many forgotten dreams all along the side of the road,
more stories and more campfires then you can imagine for another and another so many others,
some takes repeated over and over,
done slowly fading from Nan's recorded history we pass along,
and sadly some died secret within another universe lost, never to be told,
you better purse those lips and listen up talker,
Open ears and mind engaged listen to the elders and stories
never again to be told,
pass these perfect ver batim cultural stories to the youth bestowed,
Maintain the knowledge and the wealth for freedom,
protecting all within the fold.
There's nothing new under these setting suns,
Nothing at all old man time hasn't seen before,
Or the witnessing moon which follows along in stride,
always facing the same way,
as we cruise through space.
it seems generation after generation is chasing me,
faster and and faster
and have faster and faster all right to death's door.
Accept these terms and the span is what you make it. Project from mind to reality in short order,
to the benefit of many and all flourish when offerings combined in labor we make our body the temple as so described already so well before and always no better perfect than right now, common for generations forevermore, never fail to seize a moment for God's glory expected balance always waiting in store.
We are the telomeres and in matters your perspective not or the demands you make we make you what you are in the span that you will be and then the rest is up to you surely you can see?