Ascent from Darkness      1960's

And in that silence desolate

I call with silent voice.

Soul parched though waters beckoning

No drop to ease the pain

Of separateness; the ache, dry-racked

On a wheel of nothingness.

Spinning down through levels cutting

Subcutaneous layers of mind,

A pauper's ransom worthy not

Of rescue to a higher kind.

We enter with a cry to birth

And gestation is borne in pain,

We wake in morning youth imbued

By evening infirm again.

These days that grow with roots in hell

As feet ascend through mire.

Hands tied that would express life's joy

While labours She still higher.

Deep flowers, radiance of suns,

Help lift with tender love

Our fallen lonely, earth-born souls

To fragrances above.

Head bowed low on soil divine,

Our hearts unfailing, fail,

Accosted by inconstant will,

Our eyes unseeing, see

Where yet will spring the holy founts

So promised in the dawn.