What Bud Unopened?

What bud unopened presses toward the Light?

It is the mystic rose with my breast.

A mask of sorrow covering my sight

Precludes the calm that ushers in the Guest.

And yet I feel the beating of great wings,

Their pinion-shafts preparing now to soar

Beyond the bourne of unsubstantial things

To break the seals upon the golden door.

O spirit-bird fly from this human cage

To join your voice in chorus of heaven-song,

From silver notes upon a golden page

Sing forth the melodies for which I long.

I know this hidden rose that slowly swells

And grows towards inevitable bloom –

Surrender is its soil, from silence wells

Its sustenance dispersing mortal gloom.

No force on earth is strong enough to stay

Its flowering and by the sacrifice

Of ignorance its petals shall display

My soul that on its offered stem shall rise.