At
the stone of the troubling:
The
altar of the exchanging
Moments
of vision
Have
always to be paid for;
In
the losing to find
The
emptying to be filled:
The pain of the joy, before
The
delight of the finding.
At
the east gate of the garden:
The
place of the meeting
Openings
of heart-light have
A
break to be reckoned with;
In
the flash of the sword
The
flame of the turning:
The pain of the joy, before
The
delight of the finding.
At
the meeting of ways
Where
the edges of life were
There
were our weeds known
In the seeing stone found;
Known
in the inner conflict
At
the gate we were driven from:
The
pain of the joy, before
The delight of the finding.
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