Like moths we hover
"round the gas street light
afraid of returning to the Depths of Darkness
preferring the edge instead
But the Darkness has an irresistible reality
it
glows
we must make the objective real
by Reaching Out
like a babe in a crib reaching out with one hand
for that indefinable something
Listening, feeling, forming
The internal craving for
You
innate, intuitive
it prompts us to Reach Beyond
We plummet, descend into the Black Void
Objective Reality dissolves
Only by this Primal Contact
can
You survive
In Darkness is our Soul, nourished
fed then bled
the Blood Sacrifice is of the Body only
by it the Soul blossoms, expands
then dissipates
What is done in Darkness
bubbles to the Surface
keys for transforming the objective world
