Progress of the Soul

March 28, 2014

A break in continuity and why?

The iron past refuses still to die

And like the Gordian knot it must be shorn

And all the human vestments we have worn

Discarded one by one till none remain

Save the body, conscious, without stain.

The path is hard and transformation's hour

Awaits its moment like a hidden flower

Suddenly uncovered to the eye

Of one who sees, unburdened, destiny

Approaching in the secrecy of night

And looks in awe upon the face of Light.