Hereupon the threshold of the night,
We find around our feet, the path alight.
My friends, the hour of change abruptly comes.
Upon the forge the two are made to One.



Keep vigil now, awake! You mustn’t blink.
Desist from finding balance on the brink.
Let go!
The Tavern-Keeper finds you where you roam.
The Way will, oft-returning, lead you home.

The only self which matters will not die,
Yet selfhood, death will show you, was a lie.
So be it!
Whirling as we fall toward the sun,
Within the furnace all returns to One.

The urge in me which calls unto the dawn
Remains to call when all of me is gone.
Alas!
This body is a shackle to my feet
And it will perish ere I am complete.


We stand before the threshold of a Mind.
None can tell you what is found inside.
Whereupon the day of man is done,
Within the darkness only stands the One.