The body feels a force of dissonance And dissolution tearing it apart. How swiftly flown the spirit's golden stance As if a snow-white dove escaped the heart
And will subservient to death's decree Slowly succumbed and prayer alone could hold The cells from spinning towards entropy And being into chaos crash and fold
Upon itself as a black hole in space. To leap across the chasm of our pain, To feel again the subtle rain of grace And know that Death the helper shall remain
Until the transformation has begun, The body an expression of the light, Its form a fluid movement of the One, Transparent as the day is to the night.
Poems Undated (1727)
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