song of the spirit
fleeting presences gather
’round the gates of sleep,
lands of Immortal Youth
there within our reach,
creatures of water and wood
of Darkness and Light
and of Twilight
we imagine the fields
sown with seed
and they are sown,
we imagine the fields
reaped of harvest
and they are reaped,
for the Spirit is Creator
Spirit of the Dreamer
wandering among images
memories or imaginations,
in remote legends we are
Children of Darkness
Children of Light
and of Twilight
an infinite depth,
an invisible divinity,
as the mystic night
trembles into dawn,
filling the Sacred Well
with the unuttered Word
