By Malcolm Little Black
Into the void the Creation Command goes…
Wrapped in the sweet melody of Life;
The unseen Hands push and pull,
Forms after forms, rings after rings encircled,
On and on the stream from the Source flows…
A jubilant hymn of praises, joy and happiness pulsate through the Elements;
A harmonious cord,
A second to none strings,
Down to the lowest gradations-
A home would be
For the unconscious guests, in the subsequent household of the Lord.
And pride now filled thy breast,
O ye speck of dust,
Against the beaming Cross, from dawn to dusk,
Ye drink from conceit,
Vanity permeates thy cravings,
And great is the weighty bag on your shoulder…
Yet the entire Creation sings along unceasingly,
Unmindful of you charlatan and wiseacre.
Let There Be Light!
A song ye shall learn to sing by heart,
If ye must call this masterpiece your home;
Ye come from the Source, And the Source ye shall seek,
Even you Bearers of the Cross so to speak…
Let there be Light,
And there was in spheres,
Thus shall it now be everywhere.
The forming,
The ripening,
The decaying,
And everything, Around you speak to thee of the Lord thy God,
And recorded in Creation is the path thy feet have trod…
Let there be Light!
A Law hewn in Creation, A Command unto man,
Coming from the Holy Dove,
The Will of God,
The King of kings,
And the Lord of all the worlds.
