Poems of Narad

O Soul

O soul thou hast drunk deep of beauty's ways
But where is silence and the calm heart's peace,
Surrender in these swiftly passing days
When shall the tiresome sense-life's traffic cease?

The spark of aspiration grown a flame
Wavers still in the uncertain light
Of human interaction and the game
Of clashing egos might on blinded might.

God's plan lies hid or none can yet be seen
But an ancient gladness ripples through the soul,
One feels an unnamed guidance gently wean
The spirit from mind's overworn control.

Soon shall a touch surprise our mortal soil
And justify the ages' patient toil.