The shadow of what used to be,
clouding the sky at night;

Shining freckles chasing their dreams
to make the opaqueness bright.

Few and far between are these,
it's a sensible masquerade;

It's not much realized or cared
that stars play at charades.

Fiery balls of glowing ice,
observant in their means;

They live the East, they breathe the East,
the East is in their dreams.

Anticipation builds, the moment arrives,
the sky is streaked with color;

The tiny sparks that seemed once so bright,
are exposed to a light that's fuller!

What a change has come across this mind,
so filled with health and sickness!

What was blind before is not anymore,
and with dazzling quickness!

The sun shines bright over everything;
stars doubt not what it teaches;

But the fallen ones need something more
-- it is to them HE reaches.


copyright 1997 Marie Holst, all rights reserved