Bright, mirrored calling


There was within the dreams surrendered falling,

A going down to depths of darkened being

And in the slide toward hell’s beating heart,

There was on either side, bright, mirrored calling.



It cannot be explained, nor offered out in words

For sundered realms of truth are given here

And all that one can know is soon forgotten

And songs once sung in joy, no longer heard.



I would not speak of all that has been offered,

I cannot paint the pictures that would show

The truth of worlds beyond and all their riches

That lie beneath the black earth, duly softened.



It is on angels wings and arms we journey

And with the Gods we find our way to know,

The full allotment of our sacred being,

The sacred seed with which our lives are sown.