Concentration of the spirit drawn away By the taste of the fruits of temporal knowledge From the centre of the eon To the peripheral crisis of the moment, Losing balance, The hero falling Why should I return? From this enlightened world? Why should I descend? Back to the temporal forms? Now I must understand, Form is void and void is form Sometimes sage, sometimes fool Everywhere in many forms, Honoured or insulted The shifter of the hidden revelation within all Can be seen in a thousand faces Emissary and messenger Of unity in this multiplicity, The man of eternal bliss, the world navel, Immovable at the centre of the source As dreams that were momentous by night May seem meaningless in the light of day So the poet and the prophet Can discover themselves playing the idiot Before a jury of untrained eyes Open wide to your necessary annihilation To be reborn in the realisation of truth The master of the two worlds now returns To restore the balance of life
form, temporal, centre, balance, untrained