The Ordinance

 

Your hands once wrote their potent will

Upon my brow of trance;

The fire-script burns and glimmers still,

A dire ordinance.

 

It bids me to explore the night,

(For the day's tasks are done),

Go through the rock-doors and ignite

Down there the Fire, the Sun.

 

But I have neither strength nor skill,

And my frail eyes cannot see.

Are You then there? is it Your will?

Where will I find the key?

 

Will night's black scroll be ever unfurled?

The music of the Word,

The meaning of the hidden world

Within us ever be heard?

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