“Come forth, venturing the narrow way;
Let nothing hold you.
I shall wait.”
Turn not, tread in spite of mist and dark,
this thorn-strewn way;
Bleed, bare your heart.
Hold me, lest I crumble, turn to dust!
Your light, so distant…
“Fear not, let me see the wounds, the tears,
Your dolours, sorrows;
I will soothe.”
Forward, braving night, and wind and rain,
Burn, love again,
Away now he flies, off into the blue,
White-winged and shining, gleaming bright.
Away, two birds race, one aloft in the wind,
And the other ‘neath the sea, gliding, glistening white.
Calm, noble movements, every single one twinned.
They circle, untethered.
The sight smites the heart, having many years weathered,
In its darkness, and weakness, and greed.
And it longs for the hour it’ll be freed.
Mountain, steep and jagged, tough,
And crowned with searing cold, the winter snow;
Past the horizon staring,
O’er the clouds below.
Behold the sight, grandeur!
In you, we glimpse Immensity.
Seedling, little, delicate,
Cherished, born from sweat and blood and pain,
Such tender care receiving;
Oblivious you remain.
The sower’s sacrifice – an image of Maternity.