It was you who seized, who dragged the current, pressing the current to become a torrent. A torrent to the night, a torrent to death, a torrent to the intense dark, a torrent to the ocean of death. You are not from below, from the headlands of cold winds where love wells up and the dawn breezes blow. Peace has descended, the scent of that work of love, crossing to the living world, the world of light. 