The age isn't far, though it's ancient as a star.
Do you still know me and will you warm my heart,
when I knock on your door in the lonely night?
It's only right that you should wake
and trouble yourself, for the sake
of a sister that reaches now, through the break
of time that has been tossed about,
and all but lost, except within the namesake
of the grandfathers that painted
the canvas of the world
for one little girl.
Brother when i come don't turn me away.
Know my voice and invite me to stay,
though you won't know my face
or I yours, yet eons can't erase
the march of destiny that walks the sea
that separates you from me.
Open the door and let me see
where I came from, and
who I always wanted to be.
Wars came and went, and blood was spent.
Kings murdered queens and famine rent
the age of our mother's identity.
Your burning city was rebuilt under my feet,
and here I sense the heartbeats of the dead....
that which has led me to understand,
that the womb of my birth is the land
on which your children's feet now stand.
My father came to get me there,
and so repair the lost
and make her found....
But when I first looked through the glass
of the not forgotten past,
and whispered my name on a light summer wind
that stirred the dusty remnants of where I've been....
You heard me speak,
you told me who I am and used to be.
So now awaken, find your slippers on the floor,
and in the midnight darkness open the door
to the rebirth of my destiny.
I read your letters and you know my words.
There is no other time than now,
my brother.