West

Toss away your wand and set aside your sword,

my friends.

Shake off knowledge,

and bury dark excretions of your vigilance in the sand.

Remove your metal, your leather, your amulets of gold,

my friends.

Our helmets now serve as a chalice,
filled with sparkling water dancing down through the spout of

Infinity.

Now, douse your angry sword from the chalice of Infinity,

my friends.

Drink in the sweet, violet air of twilight.

Lovingly run the crimson blade through

your deepest wounds,

yes, yes,

my friends,

now tethered to the Well of Benevolence.

Turn your face to the West, leaving behind all affect,

my friends.

Step forward, naked, forward to the emerald western waters,

toward the Power of Surrender.

Follow the stream of the Dreaming,

my friends.