This constant seeking for a light already ours, A light we clothe with darkness of the mind Or close behind the vital's darkened doors, Seeking, seeking nowhere yet to find
The freedom from our poor selves desires. The psychic being silently awaits The opening, the greater self inquires And yet the errant being hesitates.
Not fearing but inured in daily trials Preferring not to challenge unkind chance And bare the spirit to the outer wilds And the human body give to circumstance.
Yet how shall God who silently dwells within Reveal the Beauty, embracing us as kin?
Poems Undated (1727)
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Narad
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