WHEN we have truly learned to live
In Consciousness,
To move and have our being there—
No foes oppress,
And though the world may never see,
We walk the freest of the free!

We talk with unseen friends beside
The Secret Way,
While words to those around, in flesh,
No thought convey.
And in this strange remoteness wist
How heavy is the mortal mist.

How Light the Spirit Consciousness
In which we move!
And Love! How great Thy wondrous Power!
That we may prove
The Temple, built not with hands,
Is everywhere that Life demands.

In darkness must the seed take root
And then the sunshine draws the shoot
Up, up, up!
So it is through sorrow’s night
We must let Love’s Living Light
Fill our empty cup.

As the babe within the womb,
So God’s Temple in the tomb.
—S. B.

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