Now is the time, Rich and deep, When Ancient Gods with Subtle, contented smiles Draw near the whirling earth, And with soft strokes Of celestial hue Erase and polish the daylight sky, That clouded and foggy Breath of other Deities; They Burnish until the evening sphere Deepens to its measureless sable tint, Mirror of the infinite. Then each Stately One spirals high, Disappearing in an aery scatter-burst Of twinkling stardust, Leaving behind The jeweled and inky orb. Now is the time Half of Nature drifts to sleep, Retiring from The uncommon scurry of the day, Exchanging the chains of Life For the tinsel lace of slumber Wherein all things real Vanish, and the wounds Of the diurnal world Close and are healed. Now is the time Flowers cease to blush, And the softly soaring birds Come to their rude nests To flutter once in instinctive rite Before assuming God's cloak Of serenity in spirit. Each creature, large or small, Is transformed, Becoming the essence of Its inner self, the reflective soul Of its simple being; And as the great silver-blue moon Stretches itself to smile Over the forest, stippling it With infinite intricate imaginings Of immaterial images, These selfsame sun-creatures Appear in their godly form As the Cosmic Mind Conceived them and brought them forth To be embodied By the golden day. Moonlight is the medium Whereby man may see, if he will, What lies within and beyond A familiar scene, a treasured spot Of time or space. In this orb's platinum sheen The lover's smile Becomes love itself, Blended with immeasurable variation Into and throughout a world Transformed and disclosed In all its perfect splendor. Now is that time; Behold it and rejoice.
7/21/71 - 1/17/72
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