When death approaches, life becomes beautiful in the fullness of renunciation; when life approaches, death vanishes in the sunlit meadows of the Edengreen; when love approaches, the twain are locked in the infinitude of the Cosmic Mother Heart, harmonic, unalloyed, blissful, free. Unnumbered rays of pure delight, they irradiate the soul with the lustre of the Self till final fruition is in the dissolution of all that is not, in all that is. Then all is bliss.
No comments:
Post a Comment