Marking ancestral graves that grow old with grace
Numbering dwellings of destiny and destination;
The arches beneath the rails that carried bold travellers
Ad infinitum, the exiles, revivers, grafters and revellers
The endless nine that forms the spine,
Of recurring powerful forces, whether raw number
Or refined in patterns spawned of transposition;
A numeric that confers the luminescence of rebirth and revelation,
Yet summons up pit-demons from the darkest philosophies of damnation
The artful nine which would but more enshrine,
Casting seeds of learning upon the awakening field
Sculpted fonts of knowledge amidst parkland art and wakespearian scene;
Ancient shifting pillars of load bearing wisdom restored to plain sight,
A digit described thus, that humanity might find its way to this same light
The final nine is so when heavenly bodies align,
Ending with a harvest of sweet-natured change for the world
An end to yield crops of life, love, peace, and dignified existence;
Yet more than a simple bounty of good placed upon the altar of human kind
Hail the arrival of new world order and thinking wrought by universal mind
A. McTiernan
Nonagon-amity - an angel-winged message to those who endeavour to go do good.
Overlooking Wakespeare - Keith Blackburn