March 28, 2014
A break in continuity and why? The iron past refuses still to die And like the Gordian knot it must be shorn And all the human vestments we have worn Discarded one by one till none remain Save the body, conscious, without stain. The path is hard and transformation's hour Awaits its moment like a hidden flower Suddenly uncovered to the eye Of one who sees, unburdened, destiny Approaching in the secrecy of night And looks in awe upon the face of Light.
Poems Undated (1727)
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