O wild and brilliant darkness, thou fire of change,
Thou, from whose dance are many torpid feet made fleet,
And many paths, from uncertainty made skillful.
Golden glowing, like the sun, both bright and burning,
Whose light of revelation, my own resistance reveals,
Whose smiling, laughing serendipity brings forth her fruit.
The truth, oft obscure, though by injured reason made so,
In your ready hands, as a toy, vexes and amuses,
Thine wit and humour bringing it to bear.
Your peal’d song o’er the clement mob, a boone,
(Sounding a clarion tone to all and sundry attuned ear)
With startling beauty awakens the sleeper:
Wild Goddess, who art in every silent stirring;
Instigator and attendant; hear, O hear!
Thou on whose amity, ‘mid the whirl and tumble of time,
Quail hearts beseech as unto benevolent heavens,
Sustain those who with wisdom and congeniality correspond.
Rogues of ego and vanity: beware the lightning strike
On the still surface of thine mirror,
As she of clarity and confusion brings her eye to yours.
But if thine eye hold naught but candor, even thro’ shadow dimmed
Rings of vapour enshrouding the naked intellect,
Such liberal offertory she felicitously bestows. Thou Queen
Of esoteric benefaction, to whom in this advancing journey
The sage confer all approbation of practice, both lucid and arcane,
Exalted with all my aggregate commendation
Of equanimity, from whose genial countenance
Dispassionate utterance, and root, and radiance will burst: O hear!
Thou who didst whisper like a distant thunderclap
In my childish ear, where I dreamed,
Cocooned in the notion of languid reveries,
In visions of gentle pools and untrying hours,
And saw in sleep soft tireless stories,
Arising ‘neath the easy sway of nine smiling daughters.
‘Til, once shrouded in insipid slumber,
Thine arrow, chaos tipp’d and fiery, pierced my brow! Thou
Flaming bolt of life’s ragged path, kissed me quick
And cleaved my heart awake, while grieving
The shape of my future, wrought with truth,
And the fathomless ken of nature, I knew
Thy voice, and grew quiet with the grasp of it,
And reveled and wept in its presence: O hear!
If I were a stone in deathless repose;
If I were a reaching tree under the stars;
A wave to rise and fall without tire, and blithe,
Unaware of thy gifts, untroubled and lacking volition
Then I would know thee not, O Feral Mother! If even
I were once more as a child, and innocent,
A wanderer in thy wake upon this mortal earth
As before, thy wisdom still around me wreaths
And scarce is far from all; I could ne’er have strode
So boldly with thee into mysterious realms.
Oh! lift me as a wave, a leaf, a pebble!
I glide ‘midst the thorns of passage! I dance!
A glorious strength of heart has unfettered
One so like thee: your daughter, and proudly.
Make me thy messenger, even as the winds carry your song:
What concern if my dance is wild and free?
The glory of thy ferocious beauty
Will rouse from idleness those sunk in prosaic swoon,
Steeped be they in mediocrity. Be thou, blazing Goddess,
My fire! Be thou me, O morphic one!
Put to flight my passionate will across the Universe
Like a hail of arrows to pierce the veneer of diminishment!
And, by the incantation of this verse,
Scatter, as from an open hearth
Embers and sparks, your knowing among all people!
Sing through my lips to the dormant
The song of change! O Eris,
If the Universe be a swirling sea, thou art the wave! Thou art life!