I felt the fingertips of fate Lightly tapping on my soul As if to say, 'The Hour is Late', Awake, move forward to the goal. I left behind me all great loves, My love departed years ago The sanctified gardens and the groves Of kindly trees I must let go To work all karmic problems out, And all mind's thoughts that hold me back And all the inner demons rout, Desires that would my peace attack. I am home now in the fire And of the challenge must not tire.
Poems 2024 (691)
Home
Disciples
Narad
Share your feedback. Help us improve. Or ask a question.