The Boon of God

Soon the rose from thorny sleep shall wake

Bare in the bosom of the new-born year

And from the drowsy soil her dress remake,

All memory of winter disappear.

Shall we who greet returning Spring again

Discard the heavy mantle of the past

That long upon our consciousness has lain

And all the karmic burden we amassed;

To cast aside the winter of our dreams

That we may grow possessors of the light

Cleansed in love's regenerating streams,

Armed with an imperishable might

To rescue from the robbers of the deep

Truth's golden coin, the boon of God to keep.