And as each one would so create
With pen or brush
Or hue with chisel
Or a thousand other ways

He must within see form and substance
Which born in Light
Becomes small part of all who see
The thing which he thus so creates

And having seen the substance
And the form
And bathed within the Radiance
Of Creative Light

The seeing does to men create
A most desired thing
To lift them up
And with their heads held high

Fresh bloom of courage
Resting on their face
This Light will flush away
The dross material self

And leave him cleansed and so refreshed
He’ll climb his mountain
And there to see the dawn
Be then reborn
Unto another day.

by Ernest L. Norman

Excerpt from Infinite Contact