IT is told, in Buddhi-theosophic schools, There are rules, By observing which, when mundane labor irks One can simulate quiescence By a timely evanescence From his Active Mortal Essence, (Or his Works.) The particular procedure leaves research In the lurch, But, apparently, this matter-moulded form Is a kind of outer plaster, Which a well-instructed Master Can remove without disaster When he's warm. And to such as mourn an Indian Solar Clime At its prime 'Twere a thesis most immeasurably fit, So expansively elastic, And so plausibly fantastic, That one gets enthusiastic For a bit. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PROVING by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE MOTHER by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON DOMESDAY BOOK: ALMA BELL TO THE CORONER by EDGAR LEE MASTERS NEIGHBORS by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON OCTAVES: 8 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |