Beyond
NOT in those dust-born
particles of breath
But on the height of a blue deathless hill
Is the unshakable peace, the golden wreath
Of crowning victory, the world-forging Will.
On burning sands lifes
futile caravans tread
Lured by the passionate icker-call of esh,
In the same blind eager circles ever led
Through the labyrinthine deserts mesh on mesh.
Find rather under the
souls austere sign
The pure fountains of heavens deluge-re,
The rock-embedded source, the spirit-mine,
The immortal wine of sovereign Desire.
Plunge into silence of
that bourneless sea,
Mirror of the vast Wings of eternity.
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