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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