Where lightness finds the passage through the dark
the thoroughfare of dimness, where we’ll soar
about the sun undone, unborn again,
but one— divine the spark! The wicket door
unfastens where the constellations form
sepulchers made of stars. Celestial reach─
become what’s yet to be, your elegy
of memoirs left beneath the weeping beech
our private pain released. O spirit’s heart
no loneliness eclipsed by shadows breathes
beneath the Zodiac where night-birds sing
and crown each shining sphere with wreathes
from fronds of maidenhair in braids of gold
where rainbows arc and nights are never cold.

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