The sun may be clouded, yet ever the sun
Will sweep on its course till the Cycle is run.
And when into chaos the system is hurled
Again shall the Builder reshape a new world
Your path may be clouded, uncertain your goal:
Move on - for your orbit is fixed to your soul.
And though it may lead into darkness of night
The torch of the Builder shall give it new light.
You were. You will be! Know this while you are:
Your spirit has travelled both long and afar.
It came from the Source, to the Source it returns -
The spark which was lighted eternally burns.
It slept in a jewel. It leapt in a wave.
It roamed in a forest. It rose from the grave.
It took on strange garbs for aeons of years
And now in the soul of yourself It appears.
From body to body your spirit speeds on.
It seeks a new form when the old one is gone
And the form that it finds is the fabric you wrought
On the loom of the Mind from the fibre of thought.
As dew is drawn upwards, in rain to descend
Your thoughts drift away and in Destiny blend.
You cannot escape them, for petty or great,
Or evil or noble, they fashion your fate.
Somewhere on some planet, sometime and somehow
Your life will reflect your thoughts of your Now.
My Law is unerring, no blood can atone -
The structure you built you will live in - alone.
From cycle to cycle, through time and through space
Your lives with your longings will ever keep pace.
And all that you ask for, and all you desire
Must come at your bidding, as flame out of fire.
Once list’ to that Voice and all tumult is done -
Your life is the Life of the Infinite One.
In the hurrying pace you are conscious of pause
With love for the Purpose, and love for the Cause.
You are your own Devil, you are your own God
You fashioned the paths your footsteps have trod.
And no-one can save you from Error or Sin
Until you have hark’d to the spirit within.
Nothing that I do,
Advances my dreams.
When will I wake up,
To the sound of tui calling me,
Wind pulling me,
Sun warming me?
I am carrying an energy,
An old and dusty spell,
Laden with inertia,
And it is holding me back.
Is it the consequence,
Of my own doings?
I do not believe so.
But then I think,
Where did it come from?
As I ponder its origin,
A voice whispers inside of me,
And then comes the realisation,
That the inertia in my life,
Is of my own creation.
- Kyle Bluck.