The eagle of your flight – too low –
is drowning in your body’s marsh,
is captive in the swamp of time

The mysteries are bursting out of you
as from a cowry-shell,
you feel them as sunrays in the gloaming;
in the twilight of life
you guess you’re undiminished,
still whole though scattered all around

You have been passing through all reigns
everywhere seeking for the Lord –
by night a candle is enough
by day the sunrays show the way

Yet, do you know who you are?