I am aware, or I am made aware
Of the conflict of our suffering
That is; my suffering, your suffering, our suffering
It is a burden which I gift to you
It is a burden which I take from you
No more, never no more, no more ever no more
Furious as the fury might have been
Acceptance is willed in on the angel’s wings
The angels given courteous of the Celtic Wisdom
The wings adapted for our brows of suffering
Let us cherish that which we do not talk about
Let infinity guide us to the infinite
Let smooth light illuminate the jagged darkness
Let the morning take us into the day
The day then to lead us on into the Elysian Fields
There to celebrate the silence of the silences
To embrace the love of the love of the lovers
Step steadily into the courtyards of blossom
Witness how clear the path of the arrow
See how certain its tip enters the tree
That none of this might reach you
That the hollow man may echo hollow words
That the hillside is still there for the climbing
That the stream is where the water flows
Beneath the bridges to all of our yesteryears
