I believe the inner stress that heralds change Opens doors once shut to mortal thought And through the numbing pain of body's trials And the grief we feel for that which we have lost, An opportunity to rise above ourselves, Our human weakness and our long-held woes, To come into a place known long before The entry into birth, the shock of life That brings with it forgetfulness of soul And the destined goal for which we suffered birth. Youth is a blessing, age a blessing too, For one can, in the torrid race with time Outrun the past and into wholeness leap, Beauty the progenitor of birth, Love the manifest divine on earth.
Poems Undated (1727)
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