The Working of the Divine

A light entered

the dense hour of the world,

not like a call,

not like a sign,

but like a breath

that does not tear the night apart.

It moved unnoticed

through the corridors of time,

laid down no claim,

raised no banner.

Yet wherever it went,

the measure of things was changed.

A deed occurred,

a word was spoken,

a gaze came to rest –

and in secrecy

the wheel of the soul began to turn.

For coming from the Higher,

every action carries within it

an invisible sun

whose rays

are recognized only later.

Not today,

perhaps not tomorrow,

but when the inner hour strikes,

a forgotten gate

opens within the human being.

Then the soul remembers

a touch it once received,

when the spirit was still asleep

and the mind knew nothing.

Thus the Divine works

in the mask of the simple.

It moves through dust and daily life,

through silence and misunderstanding,

and leaves within

a trail of fire behind.

No struggle accompanies it,

no haste.

It knows the long paths of time

and the patience of the Eternal.

What is sown in this way

waits.

What has been touched in this way

does not forget.

And what has worked within consciousness

will one day rise again

as understanding.

For the light

that has once touched the depths

returns again –

not as a memory of the mind,

but as an awakening of the soul.