Poems of Narad

The Moments of God

Hidden in the vast archives of sleep
Or drained from storage cells of memory
We lose too soon in some forgetful deep
The moments of God in our humanity.

Yet the soul remembers the smallest things,
A word that woke the wistful heart to seek,
The leap of joy the psychic contact brings
A face recalling former lives, the meek

And humble stirrings of consciousness in man.
And while the outer being plays and dreams
The spirit sees with eyes that higher scan
The vistas where the golden river streams,

And seeks to reunite and divinise
This bodily life, to God acclimatise.