You will know it is the age of the third eye
That travels the expanse of purple panoramas
Measured in infinite masts of mountains spewing
Cascading ribbons of thundering waterfalls
That splash alluring forests with leaves in ochre red
Behold, my hand prods the earth with the rod of stories
As water gushes from below
As a nation arises from reeds
And creation mythmakers float in fabled vessels
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