My stillness in depth of infinite mind, That which allows for the all to align.
Through the fire of imagination, transposed manifestation, we, no longer three, but I.
Temperance and her kind my golden mean,
Justice as scales to keep our eye serene,
Fortitude my iron steel exemplar,
Yet prudence my fondest of all civil templar.
That which has its abode above virtue,
No shadow to lurk or lies to hurt you,
Neither lips to deceive or misconstrue,
Wisdom is to see as air is to you.
As our souls move through bodies animate,
To bring harmony & to incarnate,
Each one unique in our way of shining,
Working in sync, designing, refining.
Eventually we hit the crude bottom of matter,
Formless & disorder in parts did we scatter,
From this brokenness our souls look back to love,
To recall her beauty & intelligence thereof.
Through contemplation ‘we’ must remember again,
To learn to fly & rejoin our native kin,
Each of us giving our morning song in turn,
Our hearts as ‘One’ through that which we yearn.
Now as the day draws to its final end,
No soul can continue to make pretend,
For the fire of Truth will illuminate all,
As our egos fade we discover our call.
Creatures of flesh to beings of immortal light,
Raise your spirits, fear not and take flight,
Know my voice and look to the rising sun,
Patiently wait the stillness of that One.
Jason Youngman – March 11th of 2016
A special thanks to Joshua Sellers for reminding me to return to my childhood love for giving soul to poetry. There is nothing under the sun that gives me more joy than allowing my inner muse to shine. My main intention for writing this piece is to help trigger in others their innate mission or purpose in life; sometimes we have to chisel away at our statue for many of year, before we get deep enough to discover that our destiny was always there.
The picture above was taken during my summer visit to Toronto in 2013; it is one of many images that I’ve created in view to capturing the beauty of the city. This partial image is to the entrance of the Ontario Museum of Art. It is one of the largest museums in North America and presently the largest in Canada.
The closing line to the poem is in view to Plotinus’s spiritual disposition, which seems to be an appropriate way to end the poem…
To allow mental imagery, that splendour of the rising sun, that beautiful golden dawn, to permeate our thought and lead us home…
(See Platonic Theories of Prayer (2016) by John Dillon for a more thorough explanation as to Plotinus’s way of silently waiting to merge with the divine.)