In dreams untried, (the painted actorʼs grief)
All feelings bled, dry fears of wisdom shed,
Our humble man, the actor held beneath,
The prophetʼs dream, the childʼs belief.

A man entombed, without tomorrowʼs sky
I felt I knew, he felt the sunrise too,
Alone with all, the world without the eye
And I was dark, as if to die.

He knew the words, and raised his pen to see
But met the heart, and visions held apart
Then cried for life, a deeper scar of me,
He took my hand, then set us free.

And from this time unmeasured, deep within
From sleep we rose, upon a virgin breeze
In freedom borne, fresh days of dreams begin,
Awake at last, alive again.


November 1978 (as amended)
© Michael G Reid 1978-2011