I lie upon the grassy hill
while all the Earth is warm and still
and watch the Stars in mystic dance
reveal the Signs aligned by Chance;
and so, connected by my Weave,
the Gate is formed -- and by His leave --
the Tumblers all fall into place
and draw me to His Sacred Space.
The Portal shimmers in its rainbow sentience,
glowing in eager anticipation;
my fingertips touch its welcoming radiance,
and respond in exhilaration:
tis a feeling like effervescent water
tingling in gentle curiosity;
celebrating the return of the prodigal daughter -
swirling in Sacred luminosity.