Two travelers

[Dedicated to Jess M.]

Perhaps a monumental of occasions
Testament that stands unmatched:
A giant porcelain achievement,
The bravest follower dispatched

He climbs upon the holy platform,
The crowd cheers and doves go free
And with a single wave of glory,
The scion follows his decree

His mission is that of conversion,
The infidels they hope to tame,
and turn around simple minds,
To show them glory mixed with shame

The godless living over yonder,
Barbarians, on their valveless side,
Irreverent of white provider,
They've built of steel and wood their pride

Respect for artifacts this holy,
A sign that we're meant to be,
Ignoring signs from the heavens -
the path to never be this free

At once, behind more than lone challenge,
His counterpart of heathen pride,
With wings as dark as darkest twilight,
Reluctantly assumes his side

White porcelain monks, far and old,
Who worship clay pots from above,
Achieved what no-one thought they could,
and signed darkness with white glove

A war upon two different nations,
One worshipping a simple cast,
and the ceramical achievements,
That iron very soon surpassed.

Another, knows not of the object,
A valveless valve that higher powers sent,
and builds for sheer entertainment,
utility, and basic need to just invent

A war upon two different travelers,
One grown gazing up with love,
with dreams of solitary travel,
salvation only comes above

Another, knows not of the heavens,
Yet saw their magic twinkly call,
And justified with holy calling,
He volunteered for the brawl

But as the porcelain valves flutter,
And steel grinds against steel,
The travelers race towards each other,
Their true flying dreams conceal

And as the sun begins to doze,
And gently rolls into the ocean
Their childhood emerges with the stars,
And makes them question their devotion

But as they both gaze up above,
Caught by a truly timeless sight,
Their birds collide and for an instant,
They are themselves stars just as bright

Too late for those devout fathers,
Their common dream sealed their fate,
Yet there's hope for sons and daughters,
A path to dreams without politics create

And as a club of young stargazers,
United by their parent's empty plight,
A plan is hatched, the foundation laid,
for bird of truly honest flight

And the importance of true knowledge,
Of what it is one wants to do,
Mixed with the light of understanding,
Of doing it without adieu

For false pursuit will not be fatal,
As long as you don't mind the scars,
And path you're taking goes directly -
Dreaming to blasting toward the stars