The Branch yearns for Man_Hu
For there is a deep passion
Which overwhelms the soul;
It slumbers within the depths of awareness
And touches the heartstrings of destiny.
The Source, from whence was unfurled the shroud
Of darkness to touch the morning light,
Issues forth the inner passion from out of
The primeval essence of that which is self-existent.
The Vine knows the heart of the yearning branch,
And yields the covering dew which nurtures
The rich ripe fruit with the hidden Man_Hu
Of the Bread from Heaven.
But, from out of the incessant depths of yearning,
The inner being cries out in its struggling passion,
And seeks to drink in of the Living Water
Which flows forth from the fountain of life.
Man_Hu? Man_Hu? The branch calls out
To you across the moments of time;
Man_Hu! Comfort your branch--for it longs to be refreshed.
The Song of the harvest echoes through the mist of the ages,
And its eternal refrain brightens the fruit of the vine;
Man_Hu cover your branch with the dew of heaven
And the life-giving properties of your ever-eternal