The mighty Seers know
I am the origin
I the sustainer
who knows
Birthless, never-beginning
worlds.
Alone among mortals.
Stainless delusion.
Man, in many natures
Power, unclouded.
Spirit control.
Sorrow, birth, and destruction.
Fears what is fearless.
What unshaken heart contented that hand of the giver and also -
It is by me only
forth from my thoughts
The seven.
At last, I gave birth to the begetters.
Who truly knows me?
Maybe it's a connected unconscious, each of us longing for it? From un-incarnate spirits, angels, and gods to flesh and blood mortals. In this world we can only know so much, the rest is a risk; a choice guided by the inner voices.
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