The Mother of Creation

Desire was strong in me, the subtle "I"

Had wrapped the world into its packaged view,

The Ego swallowed each great mystery

And thought itself the Knower of the true.

A moment dawned all time cannot abjure

When first I saw Her in Her carven chair,

She greeted me with a welcoming 'Bon jour!'

The Mother of Creation seated there.

And then a mighty transformation came,

That turned the being towards its proper course

Nothing I was would ever be the same,

I lived within the fire and felt the force.

All things ugly, all things undivine

Were swept away or changed by Beauty's hand.

This narrow sight glimpsed God's design,

The mind no longer strove to understand,

These hands inept wove tapestries of light,

This heart attuned its strings to every heart,

The body a receptacle of light,

This world a single brush-stroke of His art.

Identified with One who lives within

I was immortal, powerfully alive,

My path beyond the stars could now begin

And earth by Her ultimately survive.