Strangers To Ourselves

the secret 

of the cauldron

is that we 

can never know

what will come out of it

and so we are drinking 

blind

only cultures of wild yeast

can ferment this potion

and each of us

is feeling in the darkness

to find the way

to our own power

there are no roads

and the course 

of the river within

is forever changing 

that’s why we’re strangers 

to ourselves hour to hour 

and our loneliness 

holds us in hands of ice

decant your sorcery

pour out the world

into my arms

to fill the chalice again

because together 

we can make magic 

Destiny by John William Waterhouse