The Hallows

From my name has come a dream
A fable
A myth
A truth that runs deep beneath the daily round.
The cup of transformation.
The stone that falls from heaven.
The double-edged sword that extracts a heavy price.
The lance of perception that wounds and heals
By the Dolorous Blow
The sword of David in the Ship of Solomon
That sails out

Timeless symbols resonate
Of Cup and Sword
Dish and Lance.
They colour the essence of truth
That we seek what we cannot find.
Desire what we cannot have.
Fear what we cannot face.
And yearn for a safe harbour of loving arms to hold us dear
Forever and ever