Oh what is this light you speak of
The one that pries a wreath off
Our necks and egos in check
The head stoops and never recoups
The rock we burnish our sweat on

Oh what is this light you speak of
Up above this tarnished land
The serpents hiss, the crows stand
Guarding waters, climbing vines
Forbidding change in apples red
Gardens green and minds unfed

Oh what is this light you speak of
If there is no sight above
And none we see below
Why find this rock and make our lands
Through fire branded rounded turns
Why toil so hard with thy own hands

When there is no light you seek of
Above or below and dimensions unknown
One thinks if it would be better still
To remember sights dark and black
The memories lie still on sills
Oh what is this light you speak of