There's an image,
And I bow down deep,
deep deep until my sweeping
movement brushes my face against the
face of the earth,
and finally from the core of my satisfaction
A painful pleasure breaks free,

No longer a shaking creature,
Weakly calling out for freedom,
But undeniable life,
Flowing from me like a forest fire,
And all the world begins to sing,
In anger.
And all the winged creatures fly,
out from the stretch of my arms,
And I feel no fear,
Only gratefulness.

Let's run so fast our spines begin to bend,
With the weight of our joy,
Let's punch out holes in the night sky,
And let the cold stars shine through,
All my prayers are answered by my own hands.