The seed of Eden,
wedded in perfect rows, lingers
as if the earth
had hands and fingers;
Reaching toward the endless ancient sky
In selfish prayer–
As if an answer why
to the question lie
somewhere out there.
Oh mighty light,
battery of star,
I wish I might
know who you are.
The deed to do, the thing to be.
The need to do what’s best for me.
To need the deed, a thing to do.
To want to do what’s best for you.