To Wake the Sleeper

Above our houses in the dimming light

The star-encrusted ceiling of the night

Appears, and heaven seems not far away,

A heart-beat from the brilliance of the day.

Through diamond paths the seas of emerald flow,

The occult messengers, their plumes aglow

From golden boughs lean down to waken us

And with their silver trumpets lightly blow

The call to wake the sleeper from his dreams

To drink from heaven's energizing streams,

To tap the source of wisdom from above

The soul to beauty and the heart to love.