By George A. Boyd © 1991
There comes a time when a person must stand alone in the sun.
When the tall trees behind her, in whose towering shadows she stood,
Are fallen, clear cut by lumberman's saw.
Trees are floating on Death's river; she shivers and weeps in the warm
sun.
There comes a time when a person must stand alone in the sun.
When leaning back, there are no longer arms to support her,
There is an eerie emptiness, where once there was presence.
She must embody wisdom, courage and strength, though she still feels
like a child.
There comes a time when a person must stand alone in the sun.
When she must rely upon her own judgement, her own vision.
The Sage has vanished from the forest, and the giants of the banyan
swamp are silent:
She has only the quiet, frosty breath of the mountains to comfort her.
There comes a time when a person must stand alone in the sun.
Coming back from the Presence, her face glows with hidden Light.
Opening her mouth, she utters the words of her Soul, wisdom of the
Primal Lord;
Opening her hands, she gives her gifts to humankind.
There comes a time when a person must stand alone in the sun.
Having walked down the final wind in the road, she beholds a door.
Outside this door, she is a mortal being of flesh, wracked with pain
and sorrow.
Though this door, she is a radiant daughter of Light, clothed in robes
of deathless thought, creatrix of her world and experience.