Cool breezes wooed the warm lake waters,
Half-hidden in a snow-white mist
That did not resist
Invasion of two leaflike canoe vessels --
Gliding like peaceful swans
At farewell hour of the sun.
In mind's swift-passing fantasy,
Like mystic barks they seemed,
Laden with silhouetted singing angels
Sailing across the sky.
- Paramahansa Yogananda
Excerpt from the poem, "Paupack's Peak"
From the book, Songs of the Soul
This evening at dusk I walked the gravel path of a lake that sits just before Long's Peak, a spectacular event courtesy of the Rocky Mountains. I watched the last glimmer of the sun's rays fall behind the jagged mountain peaks and stood awe struck by the glittering stars who were allowed to shine as the moon bowed out of sight.
There is still magic to be experienced in this world as we begin to see through the eyes of our own divinity, I was reminded tonight. And, I breathed a sigh of sensual relief to be meeting you all in the space beyond the noise - at last. I will see you in the dream world too, friends. Beneath the golden rays of the divine Banyan Tree we will float and speak the language of silence. I am delighted. And honored.