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