Transmuting Hour

Chained to a present of obscure desires

And the karmic repercussions of our past

We wander confused in the alleyways of time

And blindly move to an unknown end at last.

If we could close the door on darker things,

Draw back the brilliant curtains of the mind

That hide the luminous vistas of the soul

We'd see within our passage well-defined.

Transmuting hour, cusp of a century

When the great of soul take birth to greet the Dawn,

On earth a vast transforming energy,

From matter's womb the golden child is born.