5.4.2024
I dreamed it first in spaceless wanderings, A palace of gold I could not understand, And the offer of a kindly helping hand Guiding past the arrows and the stings
Of memory these many lives ago. I knew not of the deeper spirit's ways Alone I walked as one who silent prays Seeking not to become but to know
Why falsehood rises full in Beauty's realm And hatred garners hatred in the fold With evil gleaming snidely at the helm Of all the human masses, young and old.
Late I woke to find the Mother's eyes And watched the fall of evil as it dies.
Poems 2024 (691)
Home
Disciples
Narad
Share your feedback. Help us improve. Or ask a question.