Blessed are the men and women
who are planted on your earth,
in your garden,
who grow as your trees and flowers grow,
who transform their darkness to light.
Their roots plunge into darkness;
their faces turn toward the light.
Know there are those who harken when we pray, And succour from the realms of Light will send. Ever at hand to guide us, or defend, Till breaks at last the dawning of our Day.
We are part of the tremendous through
Forever surging in transcendent flight,
Perilous though the journey be long.
And all, it is ordained, will earn the right
To add our separate voices to the song
Rising triumphant from the chorus of the light.
~ from SONNETS OF THE ANCIENT TEACHING by Reginald Winder
