(no subject)

[mythago]

We see our hands small -
flesh and bone and blood,
we see ourselves fall
down and down in mud.

For ends the stream of life
with each decaying fight,
and come and come the years and come
till death is all we become.

But locked in flesh are the stars of night
and the essence of our birth and growth and life,
and if we turn our sight to inner light
we shall drink from the fountain of eternal life.