Our dreams of birth and death, of contrasts and paradoxes, of comedies and tragedies are nought but talking pictures, produced to instruct and entertain.
Lord of Phantasmagoria, through Thy cosmic vibratory current of Aum Thou art daily showing us, on the screen of our consciousness, a new chapter of scenes in the infinite serial of Thy shadow show.
Each of us plays parts of both joy and sorrow in Thy supertalkies. May we play them well. Give us respite now and then, that we retire among our thought audiences in a balcony of introspection, there to behold with serene detachment the re-enacting of our roles.
May we view the adverse episodes in our lives with the eye of wisdom, saying, Ah, that was a good film, full of life and worthwhile struggle. I learn much from it.
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