I sometimes thought that I could touch the light

And hold it in the center of my hand

Or understand how galaxies began

Like sacred birds unfolding into flight;

At other times I dwelt in darkest night

With demons who pursued me day by day

Through boulders that lay fallen in my way

And caves wherein the world had come apart.

In poems I traced the progress of my heart

Before I ever knew it in my head

A rhyme of hope was rising from the dead

To fly among the gracious galaxies:

And, O, at last the blessed power to see

Like sacred birds unfolding, we are free.