Mother of all being and space,
divided to give berth to face
of shadow mirroring spark: 
two halves enfolded in your grace.
Your children render limits stark—
loving the light, hating the dark.

So we, burdened by excess light
witness each brutal, daily fight—
powerless to make them cease—
but longing for the cooling night
for dreaming of our soft bodies
to drain our weariness in ease.

So we, tense with constant sound—
like voltage never finding ground—
speak words devoid of any truth.
Before all meaning has been drowned
we pray your silence give us soothe
and sharpen utterance’s tooth.

So we, running to keep ahead
of swollen bellies bearing dread,
see monsters in what makes us still—
for they compel us to be wed
to grief, sorrow, and pain until
deceiving heroes’ blood is spilled.

So we, under compulsion of clock
choking our needs within the lock
of narrative, linear time,
seek freedom, soaring as the hawk
toward myth, where spirts prime
and in eternal spirals climb.

So we, fearing our emptiness
gorge ourselves on plenteous
sensations to stifle lust—
teacher waiting in readiness
to guide us to whom we must
our spacious of soul entrust. 

In darkness may our light renew—
twinned lovers who are not two—
and push past this duality
to honor the glory that is You,
Great One whose vitality
lay beyond mere morality.