I shall rise from the ashes and be born again,
One with the divine inspiration alight in my eyes.
I am the righteous pride of my pious ancestors,
Who have asked me to speak of their love for the world.
I carry your pain in the fire of the torch I bear,
So that others’ eyes might alight like mine.
In this ancient recollecting,
You carry a torch of your own.
In every bloodline a flame’s ignited,
In every heart a story’s known.
What’s buried there is lifted,
What’s hidden there is named,
The truth there is remembered,
The hurt that’s there is tamed.
Eyes meet across the world,
Carrying their torches in the dark.
A thousand lineages now arising,
No longer scattered, no longer apart.
These stories begin to weave the earth,
Tracing one great ancestry through every heart.
And something ancient, long divided,
Stirs again there in the dark.
As torches gather, the web is drawn tight;
Until the night shimmers with light.
The fires illuminate what was lost,
And redeem the hidden cost.
So what we’ve carried through generations, inherited from above,
Is transformed from suffering to love.
