And the way to encase Him in your bosom,
And of the discipline which brings His grace.
To those of you who have asked me
To guide you to my Beloved’s silently talking mind,
Or speak to you through a gentle significant glance,
Or whisper to you through my love,
Or loudly dissuade you when you stray away from Him.
But when I shall become only a memory or a mental image,
Or silently speaking voice,
When no earthly call will ever reveal
My whereabouts in unplumbed space
When no shallow entreaty or stern stentorian command
Will bring an answer from me,
I will smile in your mind when you are right,
And when you are wrong, I will weep through my eyes,
Dimly peering at you in the dark,
And weep through your eyes, perchance;
And I will whisper to you through your conscience,
And I will reason with you through your reason,
And I will love through your love.
When you are able no longer to talk to me,
Read my Whispers from Eternity.
Eternally through that I will talk to you.
Unknown I will walk by your side
And guard you with invisible arms.
And as soon as you know my Beloved
And hear His voice in silence,
You will know me again more tangibly
Than you knew me in this earth plane.
And yet when I am only a dream to you
I will come to remind you that you too are naught
But a dream of my Heavenly Beloved,
And when you know you are a dream, as I know now,
We all will be ever awake in Him.
—Inner Culture, March 1940