Once upon a time, in the space above us all...
A wandering elf did stumble ' into this garden with a fall.
How beautiful this madness, a planet's delicious delight!
Thus he clothed for hims'elf a form of flesh, from out of his vessel of light.

With his words and his hands he wrought wonders, from the dream into waking life.
Shaping the substance of thunder, the power of lightning: his knife.

Stone he did carve, Wood he did bend;
Wind yes he wove, Flames he did tend;
from out of the deep, Wave he did send.
Between these five forces, ever-present the last:
more subtle than all, yet to all would outlast.

Named for the silence before the storm,
and the singing between the stars;
soft as the breath of abyssal fish,
yet firm as the mountain's core.

Hot as the Vulcan's smithy, cool as the northern glace;
swift as sylvan whimsy, intricate as spider's lace.
Second to none but the Father, Mother of all in the world -
unknown the eye in beholding, glimpsed in the nimbus' curl.
Born before the gaping void, younger than yesterday's thought;
never created and ne'er destroyed, between waking & dreaming is caught.
Ever the substance of soil, the secret of harvesting crop;
though effortless, found in our toil - from the roots of the oak to its top.

Secret, this power unwinding - the mind it's chalice & blade;
wisdom is found in the finding, the invisible voice in our glade.

Elfin, our hero of magic, awaits to be called forth again;
by the children of all his creation, tiptoeing outside the den...
Of our ancestor's focus and fury, the blood of the dragon inside;
balanced by our love for the furry, and heart-fire opened up wide.

Sing to the devils of mercy, and chant to the angels of doom.
Forget human controversy, in Utopia there is no room...
For the hate of our brothers and sisters, thus we must learn to get along;
Forge the spirals of ether in twisters, cast the spell of our wellness in song.