The Heart of the Master

Now all is as it were a Passion of great Peace; and in the Stillness I lift up my Soul like an offering and cry in mine Heart: Let me dwell at the feet of the Master! But the Silence swallows up those vain words; and they are smitten through with the fire of His blood, that transforms them to these: “At His feet is only the Earth, and that He breaks up into flowers; but all things that live are assumed to the Heart of the Master.” With that I cease to be myself at all: I am absorbed into His adorable essence, and my life is equally shed throughout the endless Aeons of Creation. Ay!—there is nothing separate any more at all; wherefore the Vision faileth, the Seer being one with the Seen.