And us, let us invoke them with joy, let us call upon them with love,
the Light we hail, or the Divine Darkness we worship with silent breath.
That silence cries aloud to the Gods. Then they will approach us. Then
we may learn that speech of many colors, for they will not speak in our
mortal tongue; they will not answer to the names of men. Their names are
rainbow glories. Yet these are mysteries, and they cannot be reasoned
out or argued over. We cannot speak truly of them from report, or
description, or from what another has written. A relation to the thing
in itself alone is our warrant, and this means we must set aside our
intellectual self-sufficiency and await guidance. It will surely come
to those who wait in trust, a glow, a heat in the heart announcing the
awakening of the Fire. And, as it blows with its mystic breath into the
brain, there is a hurtling of visions, a brilliance of lights, a sound
as of great waters vibrant and musical in their flowing, and murmurs
from a single yet multitudinous being. In such a mood, when the far
becomes near, the strange familiar, and the infinite possible, he wrote
from whose words we get the inspiration:
To launch off with absolute faith, to sweep through the
ceaseless rings
and never be quiet again.
Such a faith and such an unrest be ours: faith which is mistrust of the
visible; unrest which is full of a hidden surety and reliance. We, when
we fall into pleasant places, rest and dream our strength away. Before
every enterprise and adventure of the soul we calculate in fear our
power to do. But remember, "Oh, disciple, in thy work for thy brother
thou hast many allies; in the winds, in the air, in all the voices of
the silent shore." These are the far-wandered powers of our own
nature, and they turn again home at our need. We came out of the Great
Mother-Life for the purposes of soul. Are her darlings forgotten where
they darkly wander and strive? Never. Are not the lives of all her
heroes proof? Though they seem to stand alone the eternal Mother keeps
watch on them, and voices far away and unknown to them before arise in
passionate defense, and hearts beat warm to help them. Aye, if we
could look within we would see vast nature stirred on their behalf, and
institutions shaken, until the truth they fight for triumphs, and they
pass, and a wake of glory ever widening behind them trails down the
ocean of the years.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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