Contributor: Gerald Hubbirt

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Waves from that higher sun touch the mountains where copper gods stir, shout fire into great pits of coal and laugh ringing, bellows-laughs beneath dark, ember-eyes. The hot shadows and close air boom through the darkness, echo earthy thunder to stony skies, iron forges fired with the flames of creation. Red and black have destiny in these labyrinthine halls, just as water comes only as steam, light only from fire, from the liquid of burning soul-iron poured from great crucibles into ingots of self, tools and weapons beaten, tempered and forged to be wielded against the new year, against the ever-moving currents of entropy.


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