When I was twelve the Lord we know withdrew This earth for which he sacrificed his life. I did not see his golden form aglow And nothing knew of the fierce and endless strife, His lonely years of battle with the foe. Yet twice I met him at his residence, A dwelling place in subtle matter's field, A simple room of occult magnificence. Seated on his couch my heart did yield As he motioned me to join him on his right And I unaware of the inexpressible grace Sat at his side bathed in his force and light. Imprinted in my soul's eternal space The moment supreme in which my life was blessed From birth to birth and death and birth again When he turned to me and in that moment pressed So gently his hand upon my abdomen; Between his fingers the strands of his silken hair Soft against my yielding flesh and then I wept as lo I've wept these forty years To have known his touch as I shed the psychic tears.
Poems Undated (1727)
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Narad
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