R.S.V.P.

Let me not hold to illusion's dreams

Or stand on ego's quaking base

The world is other than it seems,

Behind the mask I see a face,

A form that waits discovery,

Herald of a coming race,

Our secret Self and god to be.

Our correspondence with the night

It tolerates through wisdom vast,

Cognizant of our human plight,

Our evolution's chequered past

And pours on all its calm delight.

The moment waits for man to make

The conscious call with alacrity,

Asleep within our being wake

The Lord of Life, the Deity

Now hid from view within the core,

The silent One, the Ecstasy

Requests our presence at His door.