The Near Approach to God

The winter season hangs upon my soul

Its memory of death, the loved one lost,

Though spring returns reminded of the goal

The heart in waves of sorrow still is tossed.

Once poetry rained down like molten tears

From unknown founts upon a grief-torn face

And all the world lay foundering in fears,

To beauty lost in animal disgrace.

Returning to the Source I came again

To that still place, the habitat of love

And for a time, released from human pain

Received assurance from the gods above

That life no longer would be evil's prey.

As fades into the light the evening star

When morning stirs and darkness yields to day

We shall arrive, remembering the far

And fateful journey answering the Call,

The often winding path our spirits trod,

The glory and the danger and the fall

To venture on the near approach to God.

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The indelible memory of my recent months in the Ashram, surrounded by love, compassion, friendships of the spirit and the radiance of souls who live in light.