THIS LIFE of ours is a bewildering dance
Whirled by a wild Dervish God divine,
Drunk on vintage Dionysian wine,
Wildly turning, nothing left to chance.
Upon the mellow pipes of circumstance
He choreographs a play of space and time,
Every glance upon Earth’s stage is His rhyme.
Universes glide through His mystic stance.
With rolling drums of thunder, mark His stamp;
In symphony of spheres, hear His tune.
Effulgent Sun shines as a beacon lamp,
His finger ever points towards the silver Moon.
He’s the Alone, whereby all things are done;
Divine dancer, dancing, and the dance are one.
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