How many borders must we cross to reach Beyond the limited purview of the mind, How many books to read that only preach A liberation of the soul from humankind?
Is this earth not beautiful and pure And no illusion to that soul of love Who with steadfast heart the season's deep allure Sees as divine, a blessing from above.
Why came we here if not to cherish her, The Mother, Gaia, of the fruitful tree Her seas, her shores, the beneficent offerer Divine in essence, consciousness and free.
Poems Undated (1727)
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