Ever welcome to my kneeling soul and heart in adoration.
O Secret Spirit, subtler than the subtlest as You are,
Yet You have inhabited these fragile earthen frames
To make Yourself tangible, accessible to the soul of man.
You speak through them each word they say.
You pour through them the molten gold of an invisible Sun.

O Secret Spirit,
Before I caught a glimpse of Them, arranged by a lucky accident,
Like a lost tragic one note- cry moaning in the hopeless night
My desolate life was a tedious stretch of a wretched play,
A huge senseless waste, a perpetual gnawing affliction.
Had I not met Them and borne their transmuting gaze,

O Secret Spirit,
I coul never, never have believed
That the Divine is so wonderful, all love and compassion.
Like a passionate moth burning madly for the embrace of the Fire,
How my whole being yearns to be possesesed by His sweetness
Till nothing, nothing shall be left of the sordid amalgam that is myself.

O Secret, merciful Spirit,
In answer to my desperate longing,
You have pressed a tiny concealed spring.
A flow of cleansing waters stream down from the benign peaks,
Melt and purify the petrified filth and gloom of the ages.
My soul now deeply satisfied, a happy one-note hymb of faith
Throbs faintly with gratitude, drowned in the symphony of Grace.

O Secret Spirit,
Penetrating the vast universe beyond,
All its nooks and corners with Your breathing Presence.
Substance of dreams, realities and abysmal mysteries,
From the most luminous high divinities
To the tenebrous God-denying almighties,
You are always the same intimate, nameless Supreme.
I see You, feel and touch You and hear Your voice
Yet You are the strangest of the strangers I have ever met!

Do I exist? It makes me laugh such a ridiculous question.
In Your boundless unbroken, changeless Self-extension
An isotope of an old shatytered atom, pulsating with hope
For the billionth of an undying second that is myself.
No, I do not exist yet this moment is rich and poignant.

O Secret Self,
From You I am born, Your body’s portion
In You I disappear like the exalted sprays falling back
Into the Ocean in suspense.
When I contemplate the endless sacred procession
Of Your fugitive names and faces on the cinerama of Time,
Then, then only I vibrate and my life even insignificant
Glows and burns in ecstasy like a meteor in explosion.

Glory to You, my Friend, Sweetheart, Master, Guide and Queen
Glory to Your messengers, emanations, incarnations
Glory to the earthly bodies filled with the Holy Spirit.

****