Index

ON TIME

You would measure time the measureless
and the immeasurable.

You would adjust your conduct and
even direct the course of your spirit
according to hours and seasons.

Of time you would make a stream
upon whose bank you would sit
and watch its flowing.

Yet the timeless in you is aware of
life's timelessness,

And knows that yesterday is
but today's memory and tomorrow is
today's dream.

And that that which sings
and contemplates in you is
still dwelling within the bounds
of that first moment
which scattered the stars into space.

Who among you does not feel
that his power to love is boundless?

And yet who does not feel that very love,
though boundless, encompassed
within the centre of his being,
and moving not form love thought
to love thought, nor from love deeds to
other love deeds?

And is not time even as love is,
undivided and paceless?

But if in you thought
you must measure time into seasons,
let each season encircle all
the other seasons,

And let today embrace the past
with remembrance and the future
with longing.

ON PAIN

Your pain is the breaking of the shell
that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break,
that its heart may stand in the sun,
so must you know pain.

And could you keep your heart in wonder
at the daily miracles of your life, your pain
would not seem less wondrous than your joy;

And you would accept the seasons of your heart,
even as you have always accepted the
seasons that pass over your fields.

And you would watch with serenity
through the winters of your grief.

Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which
the physician within you heals your sick self.

Therefore trust the physician,
and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity:

For his hand, though heavy and hard,
is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,

And the cup he brings,
though it burn your lips,
has been fashioned of the clay which
the Potter has moistened
with His own sacred tears.

ON SELF-KNOWLEDGE

Your hearts know in silence
the secrets of the days and the nights.

But your ears thirst for the sound
of your heart's knowledge.

You would know in words
that which you have always know in thought.

You would touch with your fingers
the naked body of your dreams.

And it is well you should.

The hidden well-spring of your soul
must needs rise
and run murmuring to the sea;

And the treasure of your infinite depths
would be revealed to your eyes.

But let there be no scales
to weigh your unknown treasure;

And seek not the depths of your knowledge
with staff or sounding line.

For self is a sea boundless and measureless.

Say not, "I have found the truth,"
but rather, "I have found a truth."

Say not, "I have found the path of the soul."
Say rather, "I have met the soul walking upon my path."

For the soul walks upon all paths.

The soul walks not upon a line,
neither does it grow like a reed.

The soul unfolds itself,
like a lotus of countless petals.