In vision or in visionary dream The unremembered music of the soul Was caught once more by that clairaudience That hears the poetry in common things And the rhythms and pulsations of our lives. A fragrance wandered in that subtle air A perfumed distillation of the flowers That still awaits in the etheric planes Anticipating its descent to earth, The moment when the soil no longer stained By death will open to divinity. This vesture of the body is not all Though we would think it so forgetting love. Already is born a race exceeding ours, But who can see who has not strength or will To look beyond the temporal to view The dawn of gold approaching and the Light That is the eternal spark that lit the suns Advancing. Beauty is our destiny And Truth the icon to which our being bows And joy that dances on forbidden ground While religion closes God within its house. Soon, soon the winged soul shall fly And laughing burst the bonds it long has borne, For we shall sing the new songs and plant The earth with hues to rival heaven's dress. A liquid flute is silvering the eve Its haunting call draws all divinely close, I hear an organ swell approaching near Symphonic as the singing of the spheres Or the sacred OM down corridors of time. The hour is come, already we are late Arriving at the festival of birth. For we have slept the long and dreamless sleep And our fragile human forms have come and gone. How many stars have seen us born and die While Nature plies her slow evolving way. The higher consciousness, now ours to hold, Calls to the still self yet hid within, "Arise, O flame, and from the womb of night Bring forth the bearer of eternal light."
Poems Undated (1727)
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