Before the red sunrise Could catch my steps Upon the dew, Across the quiet hills They came, where sun Is last to leave And fog is first to move, And a solemn, Inward marching Awaits the moon....' A world perceived in change, a moment hidden in darkness, silent companions to our inward movements.... Who are the uninitiated? Where do they come from? The poems that make up this volume hold a sign of our connection to phenomena, entering into a space where chaos becomes recognition, where attention finds purpose, and ancient ritual an understanding of the present. The more elegantly described, the more truthful feeling becomes; the more truthfully conveyed, the more closely we approach this world and come face to face with ourselves

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