New Hymn - James Taylor

Source of all we hope or dread, sheepdog, jackal, rattler, swan

We hunt your face and long to trust that your hid mouth will say again

Let there be light, a clear new day

But when we thirst in this dry night

We drink from hot wells poisoned with the blood of children

And when we strain to hear a steady homing beam

Our ears are balked by stifled moans

And howls of desolation from the throats of sisters, brother, wild men

Clawing at the gates for bread

Even our own feeble hands aim to seize the crown you wear

And work our private havoc through the known and unknown lands of space

Absolute in flame beyond us, seed and source of Dark and Day

Maker whom we beg to be our mother father comrade mate

Till our few atoms blow to dust or form again in wiser lives

Or find your face and hear our name in your calm voice the end of night if dark

may end

Wellspring gold of dark and day, be here, be now