Vision For The New World

 Returning upon a messenger with a parcel of letters and sculpture was the recollection that sparked the momentous grasp of the news of boats that sailed and found new lands.  A new world!  It was an inkling that sparkled and twinkled at instants within the mind's eye of many good men and some silent knowing women.  The news of sailors and explorers returning had spread slowly through these lands, not yet known to be old, but the messenger had traversed not over oceans but through time to this present moment, now today seems drawn out over the span of time told by the tower's clock, by years or eons or a single instant.

So the news did spread, and along with bewilderment and awe, came quietly on descending wings the recollection of the ancient dream of the perfect untouchable societies and the long wrought dream for the perfection of the human.  Being with excitement of the soul and arousal of the mind, discussion rose on a crescendo.  Lit upon logic and sensibility the search for beauty and rationality recommences.  To see life in a flower's petal, to see vectors along the horizon's edge, the elegance of revolutions of planets, the city's ideal form - what subjects were never titled but bloom in the smoke and haze of coffee salons and whispered along the finer particles in the wind of precursors to avenues.

The thought to travel was not yet for the means on horses and carriages were not yet and then were later.  In the air was the woke that sensed another day was rising with tomorrow's dawn, and yesterday's pages began to yellow though the inks stood strong to endure.  More searches!  No destination of objective could be said to have been known, although a common future was suddenly in the air.  No incitements, the higher mind did call, but by increments should we discover through gradual finds and make something fine but this time for each ourselves.

In each new day the inkling returns with more vigor and strengthening grew by drops like dew on a cool hopeful morn.  For each chance to reflect laid within each day's grasp, and soon, the thought of this slowly synchronized, towards such future as streets built of gold and silver for they are of our own make for our own utility even if they be cobblestone or something stricter.  The perspectival lines shall find home in the new lands, a grid shall be true from being possible, letters shall write without seals in blood, and true good shall come to every parent and child who wished so deeply in their heart to become free.  In liberty, one day shall cry: but for this moment, it was not yet.