Light in the trees encircles the night
and a gentle hand sweeps away doubt.
Neither clash of thunder
nor armor across black water
can conquer the ecstasy
of immaculate creation.
Brilliance of life captured
in hands and eyes,
and in galaxies beyond vision
seeks a single point
which is the beginning.
Space pretends and time
mimics creation.
That giant among angels
with arm outstretched
cannot jump the atom's void,
and in truth our chants reach only
an inner perception.
Our creator simply
is there.
Love is alive in energy
which is the fabric of atoms.
And the finger that gives life
gives everything.
