Roots

From a book of fire,
was a world of flame,
cast in the name of light.
Now, the darkness is returning,
like the beauty of a starry night.
For our roots reach down
through the darkness,
into the well of life;
our roots reach down
through the darkness,
to the mysteries of night.

In the cool of summer’s shadow,
in the forest dim with shade,
she bears the fruits of darkness
when the rays of summer fade.
For our roots reach down
through the darkness,
to the well of life;
our roots reach down
through the darkness,
like the beauty of a starry night.

Lady night rises from the ashes,
with the cradle of tomorrow’s care,
singing “live with hope and passion,
defy all doubt and despair.”
On shining black wings of ravens,
in the horns of the stag,
the Old Ways shall return again
in a way they already have.
For our roots reach down,
through the darkness,
to the well of life;
our roots reach down,
through the darkness,
to the mysteries of night.
Our roots reach down
through the darkness,
to the well of life;
our roots reach down
through the darkness,
like the beauty of a starry night.