Standard-Bearer

Jan. 18, 2011

Until the mind is settled in its calm

And the sorrows of the world no longer mine,

No peace can come to compass my ascent.

For I would be other than I am,

No longer tied to a mechanic round

Of stale ideas and petty wants and needs

But on strong pinions freely soaring forth

Discovering within these latter days

The truth that One foretold long years ago.

Unless the consecrated Self announce

Its mastery of body, life and thought

And in the stillness of its wide uplift

Bring down into this worn and tired flesh

The light that will illumine and transform.

Before the final chapter of my book

Of being closes and the unfettered soul

Rises to its rest in timelessness

I must seek the sustenance to carry on,

My standard-bearer, faith, knows the goal

And the presiding angels of the way

Will guide me on the path so foreordained.