In words we see ourselves set forth again, Each incandescent in the wash of light Lingering across the golden meadow. Light creates a double world of shadow. In every thought and word a silent shadow Says its nothingness, until again All faith and doubt are swallowed up in night. Most lust for the intelligence of light. In wisdom what one sees, one sees in vain.
Deep darkness is a blessing on the meadow.
In time one finds one's way across that meadow. Eight days the god-sent fire cast its shadow Long and dark across the door of night. Let in the cold, the Being without light, Else all love and laughter be in vain. No faith but dies that we may live again.