Is it true that we can only write Of things we have experienced, Is it not possible that we Were here before the world commenced?
If an ancient tree from tiny seed Was witness to the changing age Might we not see through inner eyes The visions of the seer and sage?
And yet we live with blinders on Favouring the narrow view Fearing unknown foreign lands We leave the harbours that we knew
To venture on uncharted seas, Depart the island-nature's home To sail towards the fires of dawn Where the soul in us may freely roam.
Poems Undated (1727)
Home
Disciples
Narad
Share your feedback. Help us improve. Or ask a question.