THE SILVER WAY
VII.
Silent you sleep—
The black womb of the sky
Aches to push forth its silver child.
Silent you sleep—
The black womb of the sky
Aches to push forth its silver child.
I am the thin sickle-edge of light,
Cleaving the darkness to you.
Cleaving the darkness to you.
I am the round silver eye,
Rapt with your helpless beauty.
Rapt with your helpless beauty.
I am the golden arms stretched down
From the late low moon,
Lifting you.
From the late low moon,
Lifting you.
It is the darkness. . . .
And we are one.
And we are one.
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