Stir up, Yhi,
glance upon darkest plains,
lay warmth with none but your eyes gaze;
bathe this land in light.
We're restless in sleep and await an awakening,
reveal your radiance, raise
all life from shade.
Descend through soil;
there devils toil,
singing songs to derail
the dawn of everything that is sure to come,
so be strong,
find us slumbering on,
where we
whistle dormant calls
towards indifferent stars.
Keep on, Yhi,
have rivers flow from barren caves;
bring forth the flora and faunae.
End the droughts of lifeless eras;
bring about the men,
and help us stem
from the inanimate.
We heard you say,
"See good in
change, young -
the sun, the snow, sleet and rain,"
'fore darkness reclaimed,
the terrain.
Return, Yhi, we'll sing
as taking to wings,
with mist and with tides,
both rising in hopes, oh,
that they'll reach brighter
skies illumed by
the brightness of your eyes.
There's day on the horizon.
Yhi, bring us one last gift,
spare us forlorn wandering.
There is a sense here of
a heart that beats in part,
searching for synchronous pairing
in equal but opposite form.
Come, Yhi, give us one
Yhi, give us one
Yhi, give us one
Yhi, give us one we can love.
