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Gaze on this painting, let it gaze on you.
A child looks out, but you are looking in,
And what will you allow yourself to see?
Gold and silver, moongold leaf on wood,
The image and the likeness of a tree,
Rooted and grounded in a deeper soil
Than any tilled on earth, refreshed by rain
From gentler heavens, open to a light
That kindled light before the sun was made,
Here in the garden you have never left,
The secret nesting place within your soul.
And if you will, perhaps the child in you,
Still perched and nested in that inner tree,
Will gaze a while on Will, who gazes out,
And recognise afresh the hidden power,
And open wisdom of his innocence,
Calling to your abandoned innocence,
And offering return. Still offering
A chance to draw from deeper roots than sin,
To be and to be borne upon that tree
Whose leaves are for the healing of the world;
A condition of complete simplicity
Costing not less than everything.
So, even as you turn away, you long
To turn again, as Earth-turn in the spring,
Back to the Light from whence we all arise.