Kwan-yin

by Stella Benson

Kwan-yin, remember, remember.

First and third priests:

Those whose love is buried and broken;
All those under the sun who lack the thing that they love
And under the moon cry out because of their lack,

All:

Kwan-yin, remember.

First priest:

Oh thou taker away of pain,
Thou taker away of tears....

The smoke quivers across Kwan-yin's face again, and the same woman's voice sings:

Wherefore remember the desolate?
Is there a road of escape out of the unending wilderness?
Can Kwan-yin find a way where there is no way?