Abwoon D'bwashmaya. Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

Before the words of sky so high,
A sound was breathed, a gentle sigh.
Abwoon it starts, a ancient plea,
Not just a Father, you and me.

It holds the warmth of mother's hold,
A tender story to unfold.
A source of life, a gentle stream,
Not just a thought, but waking dream.

The 'A' is all, the start, the end,
Oneness that we can depend.
The 'oo' like breath, alive and deep,
The pulse of worlds that secrets keep.

No distant king on throne afar,
But in the grass, the leaf, the star.
Within us all, a living fire,
Abwoon, our deepest, truest desire.