| A thousand dreamers crept as one
|
| Journey’d by the colder sun
|
| Knocked at the chamber’s gate
|
| Yet this sleeper does not wake
|
| In the oracle overhung
|
| With careless whispers, ivystung
|
| Their tiny fingers cling to warmth
|
| A home for the love weary heart
|
| Onward sacrarium, time sojourns
|
| Polanquin leads this path adorned
|
| While reverent creatures soft prepare
|
| The slumberous beauty carried there
|
| And lay their hands on silken skin
|
| As through these veins the gods did run
|
| Two thousand arms in twilight
|
| Endless dream and endless night
|
| Past echoed ruins overgrown
|
| Small voices drift in ancient tongue
|
| Mindful to their deepest wish
|
| For a home to the love weary heart
|
| In soft embrace I now arise
|
| And search for peace in hungering eyes
|
| Thy faces change: my love renames
|
| Our starlit world, the past remains
|
| Forgotten by linnear spite
|
| One thousand pairs of second sight
|
| Who through my eyes at last may see
|
| We are divinity
|
| We choose to be |