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May I reap the greatest Harvest in the short season of Earthly
Life. |
My allotted plot of consciousness was small. I let it lie barren,
producing no crops of life-sustaining culture. And now the bleak
winter of dead opportunities is approaching with its shroud of unproductivity.
My lot is small and my season is short, yet I want a mighty harvest.
So, forging through the kingdoms within, I conquered many states
of new acquirements, and now the territory of my consciousness is
large.
But, Father Divine, I have billions of my hungry thought-families
and their little ones to feed. So Thou must know that I need a big
harvest of Thy whispers in the short season of earth-life.
The waters of craving fell many times, and yet I kept my soil of
culture untilled. Now, I am using the motor-plow of my incessant,
scientific search for Thee.
May Thine unseen hand, O Divine Sower, throw the living seeds of
Thy thoughts into the cultivated furrows of my mind.
In the short season of earthly life, I want to reap the largest
harvest of Thy cosmic contact.
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