Spiritual Wanderings at Dawn




The silence of His Love,
Touches my sleeping soul,
In gentle warm strokes,
I awake to the warm
Arc of His Care.

The roar of Nature,
The gurgles therein,
The bursts of light
Tell me always
To open wide my soul
That He may touch it.

Lord of life and Love,
Grant always to us,
Seekers after your gaze,
The clarity of Home,
Our journey to the Beginning,

As we move to the End.

The passenger came to the shore,
From bands of Light descended,
The passenger waited to stand,
A mission that must be completed,
The sea in giant mists raged on the surface,
The Mountain across the sea beckoned,
Look for the road on the sea
That is the picture
The message of the journey.

One first halting step into matter,
The passenger placed another,
The bridge was full and
The sea heaved her passengers,
This passenger must make the journey
Feet on the shifting solid road
Mists that blocked the varied turns
Firm gaze on the steady light mountain,
The steps into matter was begun
That is the picture
The stricture of the journey.

The disciple was decided,
By lots cast on a purple robe,
With their boots laced Roman
As the eagle took flight
For they needed the rubies
To make a sword.


I have seen Man,
The image of our endeavours,
Has no semblance to our efforts,
Tortured by self-inflictions,
Deaf to our entreaties,
Find their spears of greed,
Wounds on their soul,
Stifling to our breadth
Dotted weak lights,
We mightily tried to fan
Into blazing fighting lights,
But were constantly buffeted
By roaring winds of ego,
There was scarce humility,
To make a brew of faith
There was little love,
I come for further directions,
To appeal to deaf humanity,
Ere the gates of Paradise
Is shut anon.

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Angie's Diary