And thinking about this thing we share
Breath, the oxygen passes from lung to lung
Hope, no being can exist long without it
Love, for we are born longing
And dreams of being desired
By every potential partner of a pair
We fall and are no longer young
Even when our path is undoubted
Through life we are crawling
Sorrow and fear wearing us down
When we ought to be burning with fire
Because this world is our only sacred ground
“Bring me my bow of burning gold
Bring me my arrows of desire
Bring me my spear— o'clouds, unfold!
Bring me my chariot of fire”
―
