Only the gods shall know our destination
Beyond the gates of earthly ends
Yet we as Gods may know creation
As our best – most beloved of friends.
Beyond the veil of midnight shadows
Beyond the call of dancing lights
Beyond the shriek of mourning widows
Shall await our Father White.
Our Virgin mother holds her shroud
To conceal her deepest mystery
And all is loved as one below
The shade of rooted trees.
The wisdom of the old is new
The sky at night reveals
The freedom of the old is true
The eyes of night conceal.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem