If Love grew wings to span the timely winds
and frolicked on the avenues of Space,
If it as blue white energy fair sings
then how can it be found within this place?

More plain and humble I should not care to be.
How can I hope to catch the creature love
and hold its iridiscent flame to me,
to hand forever in its grey soft glove?

Yet, do I hold this parity sublime
within my own immediate surround.
Its lofty silvered interstice with time
winks merrily, just here, I found.

Sweet Grace resides, then, in this humble place,
whene're I catch the smile on your good face.

At night, through the Gate,
this Garden is mine to have,
dawn, I fade away.

A gift shining pure
to share with one another,
harmony returned.

Sacred is the night.
Warmth, embraced beneath the stars,
lingers in the light.