It was a mighty torrent with a breaking, maddening,
Like that of the flaming forces that leap through the
wilds of the mind.
I saw it was Time.
And we were a dozen or so that watched its course form
When a powerful desire did seize us
And we leaped in the midst of the tumult, the force
and the rage of the torrent.
Then Hands came down to lead us; and we swam divinely
Against the mad career of this Doom in a torrent’s form
onward, onward, higher and then still higher
growing on precipice, further, dizzier ever.
My comrades and I did swim on and great was the joy
of this swimming.
ride on the waters of Time, this touch of the forces
sovrain race on the tides that aeons are called amongst
last I was tired of this play and I called to my comrades,
“Stay! Let us land on the bank with groves and hills
Have some taste of summer dreams and then plunge back
in this torrent.”
Some came, but the others sped on with a full disdain
That bank is the realm called “Life” and that race is
the race of the spirits.