The Amaranthine fields of my Elysium

-- call to me from golden distance.


In what measure do we hold these clouds

--which separate us from Simplicity?


Seems we do not realize that world

-- which exists outside our selves.


Now dig your grave with golden shovel

-- not thinking of such false enclosure.


No light illumines this dank earthly tomb,

-- yet take heart in the longer Journey.


Look to where Eternal Flower burns bright

--in meadow of incomparable glory.


On bended knee with uplifted hearts

--we bow in knowledge of Divinity.


With strong grip we guard what remains

-- at the bottom of that Evil Box.


Universe still seeks to share the Word

--while the World prefers silence.


Still I see waving flowers of Amaranth

-- inviting me to return home.