our eyes wet with the dew,
dreams clinging to our tongues.
and the song of the ancient ones,
from some dark valley within.
we carry the cross of self denial,
on the path to find ourselves!
to the beat down house
that time forgot…
up the steps to an open door.
while spiders race across broken glass,
and rats race across the floor.
we sit across the table,
and light a single candle.
then one by one confess our thoughts,
and undress the pain of being.
then drained, and strangely empty,
warmed with release,
we touch fingers beneath the flame,
and whisper silent prayers.
and rising walk out together,
companions first, then lovers…
we find the world, both new and just born,
as if beginning just begun!