Chalice

lyrics and music by Willow Pearson

Pour yourself into this vessel, it will come back to you

Pour yourself into this vessel, it will come back to you

The ones who talk about freedom

They’re always trying to get off the wheel

Well it’s true what they say about the ascent

But only partial in what they reveal

The ones who talk about fullness

Are always tryin’ to get under the skin

And it’s true what they say about the descent

But only partial where they enter in

Enter this temple

Here you’ll find sweet release

But it’s not in completion

You will find yourself complete

Pour yourself into this vessel, it will come back to you

Pour yourself into this vessel, it will come back to you

There are two directions

But only this one path

And the secret is in the embrace

Of all that we cannot have

There are many faces

But only this one eye

To gaze upon this bright heart

As she opens to the sky

Pour yourself into this vessel, it will come back to you

Pour yourself into this vessel, it will come back to you

It’s not easily broken

That which is sacred, unharmed

Only that which is merely precious

Can be desecrated or charmed

Cast the ashes into the wind

And in your true heart they’ll dissolve

What is left in the letting go

Is all that is truly ours

Touch the stillpoint

Within the dance

Neither flesh nor fleshlessness

Neither love nor its absence*

Pour yourself into this vessel, it will come back to you

Pour yourself into this vessel, it will come back to you…

This bridge is rooted in T.S. Eliot’s Four Quartets and particularly its following stanza:

At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless;

Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is,

But neither arrest nor movement. And do not call it fixity,

Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement from nor towards,

Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the still point,

There would be no dance, and there is only the dance.

See https://www.themarginalian.org/2015/11/18/t-s-eliot-reads-burnt-norton/

© Willow Pearson, Lionessroars Productions, 2002