That boy will rise

Distinct among men
He will trot in the midst
Of wayward spine
A nectar of solution

He will be bathed
In milk stream
Distil with rounded gold
His body encrushed with silver

He will come, comely
Like a man
Lost in the labyrinth of wilderness
To sprawl on the virgin taste of water
For his will be
A long drought
Of savoured dream

He will come,
Alterly to alternate
His body a work of ivory
His speech offering
Figtree wisdom.