This is a poem I wrote before I died and was reborn: br - After the years of the apples ripening and the eagles br soaring, br After the festival here the small flowers gleamed like the br first stars, br And the horses cantered and romped away like the br experience of skill; mastered and serene br Power, grasped and governed by reins, lightly held by br knowing hands. br br The horses had cantered away, far enough away br So that I saw the horses' heads farther and farther away br And saw that they had reached the black horizon on the br dusk of day br And were or seemed black thunderheads, massy and br ominous waves in the doomed sky: br And it was then, for the first time, then that I said as I br must always say br All through living death of night: br It is always darkness before delight! br The long night is always the beginning of the vivid blossom of day.