Two mites tossed down the steps of the temple
Each bounce heavier than the last
They fell upon two sailors sleeping
Into vertiginous dreams were they cast.
One mite bought spirit, the other got flesh
One mite forgiving, the other forgotten
One mite for one bloke, the other, his brother
One was thus smitten, the other stayed rotten.
The clattering chimes from coins of Repentance
Their footfalls descending in dark, slumberous hours;
Spend one on joy or save one for increase
But toss them not out of high, burning towers.
The day of an empire doth dawn in the dust
Like a couple of suns on a nitrogen sea
Those lost stars mistaken for false gods so craved
Unseeing their Source, which was and ever shall be.