The Spirit of Youth

I lived in a private world of green and gold

And felt the pulse of earth beneath my feet,

I held her fragrant in the cooling eve

And burning in my hands at heat of day,

Rich with the hidden wealth that fuels our lives.

The dark tales of our fallen night ignored

As the silver moon danced brightly through the trees.

I knew summer as the cleansing stream

Whose waters cooled the hot and tired flesh

And soft sweet grasses pillowing my head,

Contented as I watch the cloud-drift sky.

The bursting cherry and the spicy pear

Were like a nectar from another world.

The woodland thrush who sang of pure delight,

The cardinal in his brilliant summer dress,

All seasons were to me a gift divine,

The silent snow bending the hemlock bough,

Tinsel hanging from the scented fir,

More than memory they are alive

Forever in the reaches of my soul.

The spirit of youth never died in me.

Although the body ages I am younger now,

Still breaking the rigidities of mind

To open wide the heart embracing all.

Think not that pain and sorrow passed me by.

I have stood at the bed of many as they died

And wept or prayed as the unseen soul

Took flight beyond the kingdoms of the sun.

These searing griefs now lifted one by one,

The healing of the wounded heart begun.

The difficulty is to face oneself,

To meet the imperfections lodged within

With steadfast gaze acknowledging the flaws

And all that is inadequate, impure

To ruthlessly evict from the soul's house;

The petty acts, the thousandfold desires

Woven as a net of fantasy,

The streams of thought that plague the burdened mind,

A path to calm, a peace and stillness find

Amid the crowded avenues of life.

It is said that now is the time of retirement

But I refuse the fate of growing old.

Hardly have I begun, the way is long

And little have I grown these passing years.

Either to fight for every yard as in a war

Or yield the being up to a higher Will,

A Force that can in seconds exorcise

The residual darkness still alive in us

Hidden in the folds of sanctity,

On wings of truth guide the wingèd soul

To beauty and the ambience divine.

O muse of mine speak to me of joy

And love the flaming arrow pierce my heart

That I may die to self in the Alone

And drink delight in all creation here,

Revere the God who hides behind the veil

And waits the hour that with strengthened eyes,

Bodies purified and minds that know,

We may look for once at the undying light

And see the face divine that is our own,

All beings one, all contraries unite

In the marvel and the splendour that is come.