Classic Poem

Oh, to pierce through
To the self that is you!
Oh, could I touch —
Be it little or much —
The terrible fire of you,
Inner desire of you;
Oh, could I find
The Being behind!

Flash in the eyes of you,
Laugh on the lips of you,
Kiss from the mouth of you —
This is not you.
Passion of joy in the glowing embrace of you —
Only a trace of you —
Oh, to pierce through!
Always eluding, escaping, denying
The body's mad crying;
Essence divine of you,
Intimate wine of you,
Poured for my soul
When it compass the whole.
Oh, how I shout to you, cry to you, call
To the Self that is all!
Being that laughs at the counterfeit death of you,

Passion and power and beautiful breath of you —
Greatly I fling all my love to your breast
To find what is best.
Yield to the clasp of you,
Reach to the grasp —
But I cannot pierce through.
This, this is not you!

Hush — Listen — It answers me now o'er the sensitive wire,
Warm, sweet as desire:
The essence, the fire,
The you that speaks straight to my hungering spirit —
Love, almost I fear it! —
The while I lean closely and finely to hear it.

You! You! More and more
I must reach to the core;
I must probe, I must pierce,
Where the fountain is fierce,
Where the center is white
With the flame of delight.

Dear love, we must loosen the fetters that bind,
We must seek, we must find.
We are caged in this body, the self and the soul of us,
All the great whole of us.
Dear, I must reach to your soul,
You to mine;
We must greatly uncover the Being Divine.

We must scatter the dust,
We must conquer this crust;
We must probe to the center,
Where life is begun,
And face, each the other,
Supreme in the light of the sun!