To the Mother
I stand before you, open, empty,
ready.
Eyes that can not see, soul that
can not be.
Now ready to see, now ready to
be.
How can purity inflict pain yet
feel no regret?
How can truth destroy and be fraught with fret.
Even a stopped
clock tells the right time twice a day.
But a stopped heart lies broken and so
it shall stay?
Im ready to receive the sun and the sky.
The black of the night,
to live or to die.
Your vessel to use as to your will.
So my heart can be
filled and my soul can be still.
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