In the valley of the golden fountain of the now,
I feel the eternal, sparkling stream of effervescent all,
I know myself to be of it and it of I.
This moment and I are the gift.
The beauty of it makes me cry.
I am the space through which all things may pass.
I am both that which is contained and sacred vessel.
I hold both poles at once within,
though the fury of their merging makes me quake,
to bear a new gift, born of gifts.
I did not know such music I could make.
If only I would not forget these things that I have known,
nor frequent feel myself a small and broken thing.
I am the strings on which life plays, so, hear my solemn vow.
I shall make my home, my one true home,
the valley of the golden fountain of the now.
