Whereof void cometh light
Therein the realm of whispers stretching vast
By what great somnolence fore-takes the night
Unto the mind’s recoupled, last

By speckled sand in burgeoned storm
Whose weaving deems thy make
In nebulous, unstructured form
Til brinks, again, daybreak

Whence shrouded depths bestow thy name
O Maker of the Lands Estranged
O Dark Unbridled Taskmaster
What mirth beguiles thy claim?

For in the harbored bow of day
To eat of such abound
Remade in Night’s shadow’d parlay
As we, remade from ground

What, by thy gazing over land
Should bring immortal what is man?
Where through the reaching unto nought
Shall future’s stake, our hearts allot?

Where dreams be dreamt in wake and rest
Your hand to ours, there, to caress
To guide our minds and move our breaths
To breathe for life’s unending test

As is the mount to he who hikes
A place to chase the peak
Should we, who in nature alike
See ours and wish our keep