The Sovereign Spark of Self
Shall I compare thy fretful mind to night,
Where shadows feast upon thy wasted flame?
Cease pouring gold on worry's endless spite,
And turn that fire to belief's bright claim.
Let not the thief of doubt devour thy days,
Nor fear's cold hand choke hope's ascending breath;
Instead , with courage's hand, direct thy rays
To grow, to heal, to conquer mortal death.
For energy, that swift and sacred stream,
Doth choose the path where life's true river runs;
If bent on grief, it breeds a barren dream,
But aimed at self, it births triumphant suns.
Thus , waste no more thy power on needless care--
Believe, and watch thy spirit's kingdom flare.
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