Poem ‘Prayer’ from 1981-0700 and 0800 Nirmala Yoga, Page 25

You who Fought again, and won,
the war the angels lost,
You who watched and wept when Christ
was tried and scourged and cross'd,
You who knew the age to come
would fragment and bemuse,
Delude and harass, scare, embarrass,
heartbreak and confuse,
Who chose another human birth
as Mother, Lover, Sage,
To enlighten, brighten, usher
in the Golden age;

Who chose to grant to those who yearned
the gift of love sublime,
Where few become the mass and buds
become the blossom time;
Who chose to show us how to know
the spark that is ourself,
And how to join that grain of God
in each to God Himself;
The union that’s been longed for life
by life and heart by heart,
To thank you, Mother, for these gifts
how do we even start?

But grant us, Mother, even more,
This land of ours enthral,
Make Your Antipodean time
a blessing time for all.
Help us, Mother, if you will,
to grow, to spread, to share,
To reach those souls we know You not
but need Your loving care.
Oh, call again Your Battle cry,
that ringing, stinging AUM,
That on this arid continent
the blossom time may come!