The Voice

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The Voice

Poem — An Invocation to The Master #129

I have met them all, the malformed angels,
The fevered priests, the glorious Rakshasas;
In each was a heightened deviant strain
Wearing a pseudo halo as luminous crown.

I dwelt on their methods, their twisted speech,
Severing word from meaning they do teach
A new opinion mined from falsehood’s cave,
Here be more dubiousness than a sure knave.

What scale will weigh truth I then wondered 
For all here seems with an assurance clothed,
The hand and the measure are all complacent 
In passing mortal coin as from heaven’s mint.

Baffled I prayed, the words echoed back to me,
For no heart or mind made answer to my query;
Then one day as I mused as I do with thee now
I felt a softest door that opened ever so slow

Within my heart’s recesses and out peered 
A marvellous Voice that a human ever heard,
Its speech was silence, its vocabulary new,
It bore unassuming glory and all that was true.

It seemed to say, and I transcribe for thee,
“Heed no mortal tongue, no time-born agency,
For I am seated in thee as tree in a seed,
And all these tribulations by Me construed.

This My gymnasium for mighty souls,
The whizzing spears and shattering shields,
The despairing brows and spoils of war,
The crowned defeated and victory’s scar,

All are My wiles and in each My sovereign rule;
Hence, in all thou doest pour thy whole,
Heart and mind and body and will absolute,
And this done make to Me offering complete,

And thus shall I lead thee through all these,
From thine own heart whisper of secrecies
To most unknown but to the soul familiar 
And that I shall from iron nature deliver.

Pause in each moment and refer it to Me,
For I am thy Lord and Master for all eternity;
In all that baffles thee I shall for thee sift 
The true from false, the dawn from night.

Cast off then fear and despondency
Be seated by Me and heed My will for thee;
An arrow thou art, My will the bow,
To leap and strike is all thy purpose now.

After all is accomplished retreat to My vicinity,
For I have kept a spot by My feet for thee.”

Thus spake the Voice and then retreated
And my soul from its slumber awakened.
I gathered my parts as a hero does his arms,
And stepped into the battle for world’s ages.

As a slayer or slain I fear not scar or stain,
For to my Master’s command I must incline.
Join O soul this adventure and journey,
And earn for prize His sacred company.