Guardians Of The Earth Poem by Lubem Aernan

Guardians of the Earth,
Recorders of the realm;
Mother Earth pushes them out
Delivers them off,
At the eleventh hour,
The eleventh circle,
To record occurrences as life runs it's cycles.

A repetition
Nothing new, only newer vessels.
An outpouring of the spirit,
Old wines into new wine skins
A transfer of content,
As custodians,
Into newer vessels.

A divine call,
Only few can and are able to answer,
A yearning of the soul,
One which none else hears
One which chases fears,
Far away, bringing no tears,
Only of Joy,
Purpose and fulfilment.

We occur in different vessels.