© 2009 Hélène Guisan
© 2009 French-speaking Association of Readers of the Urantia Book
“Oh irrepressible joy which wants to spring forth and spread like a blessed laughter, burst of sap, exultation of a river, clamor of alleluia:
“I am my joy, great ocean, too full eternity, which pours and flows inexhaustibly from the bosom of my infinity.
“I am the flowing cup, infused with light, which bursts forth into eternal asphodels of clarity.
“I am the immense and calm swell of love, moving in itself, from which life will flow like sovereign water.
“Like a spread swan taking off into the dawn in a long burst of foaming whiteness, from the overflow of love, from the influx of light rises the hymn of joy, blossoming, in eternal space, and I say:
“Let man be, let man dance in my joy, always around me, like the white foam around future beaches, like the dust of the golden spheres which are born and pass into the heavens.”
“And I said to man: “You will create from the springing of the spirit to know yourself from the springing of light.”
“And I said to the woman: “You will create from the outpouring of your heart to know yourself from the outpouring of love.”
“And I said to them both: “You will create in the mystery and expectation of the childlike smile of your joy, as I create you, my beloved ones, for the miraculous grace of a pure human smile.
“You will form brief eternities in your image to know yourself as unalterable reflections of my divinity.
“You will play the poet, you will play the cause, to understand act and cause in your creative mime.
“And in remembrance of me, and in return to me, your very bitterness will blossom into joy, and the tearful flight from your ovens in duration will be plotted.”
“Poet, bard, hope of a melodious dream, cradle your nature of clay and pure spirit, grant your murmur to their obscure expectation which dreams of splendors ravished from the ineffable, which dreams of losing itself in the bosom of the immutable, oh cradle their desire for a confused dream.
“Let the idea sing, let the clay shine, let the essence be incarnated to speak to your senses, as your God becomes flesh to reach your heart.
“You will sing and the incarnate essence become pulp and rose will be called beauty in your love speechless before its purity.
“You will sing and the same desiring silence, the same ineffable silence which fills the soul offered to my lunar light - trembling millennial - will rise in the heart of the one who listens to you, like a new seed, immemorial power of joy.
“You will sing so that, from heart to heart, your bouncing joy shakes the universe forgetful of my laughter, and taking off to the sky with its young joy, banners, in the azure, the call of my love, as long as the ancient round blooms again around me, and dances, flame blooming, halo of my joy.”
Helen Guisan