Submitted by Fr. Pekht  
☉ in {sdeg}º {ssign} : ☾ in {ldeg}º {lsign} : dies {dow} : Anno {year1}:{year2}

There seems to be more to this
Than just coincidence.
Think not of us as a cowards
Though we often walk the fence.

Not certain of the outcome
Or whether to proceed
We find our patience prudent
Without desire or need.

Our work progresses firmly
Without need of result.
By this means our Will be
Shot forth as if by catapult.

When we come to this
And to this we must come
And all our useless action
Equals to its sum.

Then there will be attainment
Of a type as yet unknown.
Like a seed in the earth thus planted
We must wait until it’s grown.

Then we will find it simple
to judge a flower from a tree
And “Because of my hair
the trees of Eternity”.

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