Behind the Veil of Form

Seated in the holiest of shrines

A Presence works unseen by mortal eye

Unknown to mankind's outward-gazing view

Whose limit is the reaches of the sky.

He who threads the fabric of our lives

And moves in us as comrade, brother, seer,

Beloved paves the Way through centuries

And measures not the hour nor the year.

His purpose clear who shapes our destiny

Even our rebellion understands,

To free from bondage the imprisoned soul

And lift us with supreme almighty hands

To heights divine and growth in rarefied air,

Affranchised from the age of our despair.