You touch me deep, a darkly glowing sun
begins to surge and stir within, below
unskied horizons, distant rumbling guns
at unseen thresholds, like a magma flow
or predawn swells that warn of tides a-run.
Dark, red, pulsating, urging sun and blood
the rising gathers force, a flaming ball,
a wild, imperious, purple-bounded flood.

And deep in you, our heaven, expanding still,
gongs back your siren dew-drenched dawn-vale\'s call.
Her narrow gates cling tight, but yielding thrill
to rampant risen sun, and frame his rise—
gold, rubies, jet—and all our world is filled
with darkest noon, unbounded radiant skies.