Earth in the Balance

Earth in the balance seems to hang in space,

A vision dimmed by sullen clouds of fate,

Of her former glory lingers but a trace

Amid the war-torn ravages of hate.

Her body cries and seeks the healing balm

Her painful deep and bloody wounds to stem,

Recover youth, joy and ageless calm

To bear the weight of Heaven's diadem.

Love perhaps with swift enfolding wings

Will wrap the world in a Mother's tenderness

Heal the suppurating sores and stings

That stifle in her the voice that would express

Eternal truth, all evil to forsake.

For in the hour of divine largesse

Bodies of a finer, subtler make

Bearing the supramental consciousness

Shall manifest in matter's fixed domain,

Impressingon our frail mortality

The Godhead's seal; for man shall yet attain

And sculpt from clay the living Deity.