When poetry comes and I in altered state Receive the beauty of a world unknown That lies within and certainly above, Recipient of verses that are sown As seeds are broadcast by the gardener's hand I know not where or when the moment dawns But settled in the quiet of a room, Driving on the busy roads of time Or wakened from the alpha waves of sleep, All doubt dispelled, nothing I assume But wait upon the Word to move the hand And see as dots on an illumined page The lines take shape and of a sudden feel The rhythms of the dance within my soul.
Poems Undated (1727)
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Narad
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