We seldom see the threads of former lives Or those that move us now as marionettes Upon our moral stage the past survives And from the ancient towers and parapets
Looks down upon the folly and falsity Rampant in this carnival of time. But through the human haze and density The future presses urging us to climb
Above the puppet self we know as man. There is a silver thread among the skeins Of fate unravelling that weaves a plan And through our pain and pleasure stillsustains
A vision of a conscious soul divine, Hidden as the larva in its cocoon, Transforming silently, no outward sign Betrays the mighty form within that soon
Will manifest as Force inviolate, Visible even to the blind, The forerunner who is born tomediate Between humanity and supermind,
Precursor of the godlike race to come When evil is transformed and death is slain, On earth once more is heard the sacred AUM Descending midst the Supramental rain.
Poems Undated (1727)
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