A Proud Son of the Thunder (poem/gedicht)

“Be brave, my son,” the thunder’s roar commands,
“Be brave and summit-free; the time to be
A proud son of the thunder has arrived; deprived is he
And ill-fated who still misunderstands.

“A new era is dawning swift, accute,
New thoughts, new goals, new earthly roles
To play the ancient game with modern tools; he fools the soul’s
Delight who now plays ignorant and mute.

“Be wise and tarry not, be ever keen
And climb the mountain’s side, one giant stride
Of swift soul-boots to kill the roots of pride
And dive into the bliss of the Unseen.

“O pilgrim, heed the urgent Call, the whispered Voice
That deep abides within, ascend and win
The summit-glory’s peace, cease doting on sin
And be an agent of His happy, sunlit Choice.”

Abhinabha