V. 2. / 123.) Through The Amaranthine Halls . . .

Through the amaranthine halls

Through the silent passageways of shells

The passing of light into life

And the coming of the dawning

They were all empty

That by the light could be entered

The shells of my harvest were long tipped out

Quietly the gentle lamb passed through

For thought – that once – I had held dear

Weighed – measured – betrayed its conception

And known – overshadowed and surpassed –

Quickly my counterfeit was closely quelled

And through the amaranthine halls

And through the silent passageways of shells

The passing of light into life

And the coming of the dawning.

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