We are pilgrims,
seeking what lies beyond the amber vale-
a land where the mountains are gilded in freckled light,
and the earth sighs with each step.
Here I live on dirt and rock and water,
and breathe winter air that bites my throat.
But there I’ll feast on garnet grapes,
and sleep beneath a moon carved of opal
every obsidian night.
Where malachite moss creeps up jasper trees,
and seas are bathed in starlight-
there I shall build my home,
nestled in the golden sands.
We are pilgrims,
seeking what lies beyond this molten matter world-
a land where jewels drip from trees,
and time is crystallized.