August 25, 1999
Now I am calm in silent depths of mind And harvest joy in roughened thankful hands As autumn comes and our gardens find The Mother's imprint on these sacred lands.
By the still lake reflecting on life's events The years of our seeking pass slowly in pensive mood, A smile wells up as I inhale the scents Blossoming on a branch of gratitude.
So many years upon the wheel of time Weaving the wondrous patterns of the world, Together we faced the great and arduous climb, How beautifully as comrade souls we toiled.
Descending bliss is close, I hear the rush Of aureate wings pressing towards our earth And in my heart a voice of rapture sings Of godhead's crown and superhuman birth.
Poems Undated (1727)
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