From the world, turning, turning,
I entered the sanctuary of darkest Night
where the Stars were conversing.
But each word they spoke wound around
my heart;
so many filaments, my love languished
in a prison.
The Stars talked on and on, endless;
their positions appeared quite fixed.
They claimed,
In
no hurry are we,
our
words are woven wisely.
You
struggle against us, full of fear,
when
for your sake the Veil is woven
tightly.
Time, time, is ours.
Then a filament of brighter Light I saw,
coursing through the Veil—
My Eye followed it, followed it,
the words lighted were Melody to my Ear.
The Stars were glad:
So
you join our conversation.
You
unravel all our weavings.
Time is also yours.
Soon, my heart shined bold and clear,
no longer bound by fear and struggle.
The Light that guided replied,
Your
love is set free.
To
the world now turning, turning,
as
another Age is dawning,
be
the sun for all new found love's
responsibility.
from
The Birth of Psyche