Seneca Patti Smith

(The Wing Child)

O chariot of insect
O crown of wind
Two royal leopards
Run with him

On a golden lead
Of tapered vine
O the blood sky
O the blood sky

Wine of a God
Running wild
O golden seed
Who made the
Winged child

(Seneca)

Run, run my little one
Run out to sea
Run, run my little one
What do you seek?

The canvas is high
The scheme of a life
Written in the wind
The pen, the knife