When The Sun Went Down A lake of mirrors reflects an alchemical nature of silent ink. Always watching, with the eyes of the scorpion, the zodiac’s watchers. Nearby, the medicine wheel turns the snake dance, coiling wisdom, With a Marco Polo mind that seeks the unknown path. The Ayahuasca Elders, stone warriors of the Buffalo brigade. Now summon the drums, ancient voices in the rhythm of the mirrors Lake. Echoes of those who once danced with...