My gold‐gossamer astral body, shining with the spark of immortality, hopped, cricket‐like, from one blade of existence to another. Thou hast clothed the barren soil of eternity with grass‐blades of many cycles of time. I will hop to them one by one, from one blade of pleasure to another—until I can leap to the safety of Thy reassuring hands. With living threads of Thy joy I was formed. I am happy to have danced my part in this cosmic show. But I have done, now, with restless hopping.

I would find rest, at last, in cosmic changelessness.

Human lives, again, like slowly moving camels, plod ponderously over broad, sandy deserts toward the oasis of self‐awareness. As developed beings, their astral bodies pass also from planet to planet.

Only in Thee, at last, do they find what they were seeking always. Lord give me again the perfection of fulfillment in Thy Love of Infinity.


185. I Want to Be Thy Cleansed Bird of Paradise