Dreams of Etherea Dreaming of Space

The mind’s eye of the Spacewalker sees Etherea,

Always the Garden Etherea.

He speaks into eternity:

“The abyss is a lonesome road,

And the lonesome road is a lifetime,

Piling up what could have been.”

He began a utopian citizen,

Searching for something more.

He sought the darkness on the edge of town,

The town that was holding out for the hero,

Who sailed across the depths of his own soul.

Strangers let the reins loose,

But he survived the thorns,

Walked the lake's blank space,

Keeper of the calm over

Tortured waters beneath the waves.

He chased a desperate truth with arms outstretched,

Survived drowning in the desert,

Laid his hands on the mountain, felt it breathing,

Climbed where the wild things were whispering,

Found her, dressed in a vast sea, running toward grace.

The Garden withered of winterspell before she came.

She-- the chosen Eden Queen, the other half of a hero.

A forever invisible red string of epiphanies

Led him to the Eden Queen,

Their hearts spoke quiet truths that made no noise.

Now the Chosen Queen sleeps in Pandora's box,

In the Garden Etherea, dreaming memories.

Heart compass points North, to the stars, to the abyss,

To the Spacewalker in the abyss, stealing fire,

Dwindling into the specks of the stars.