Reminiscentia

Humanity languished, misunderstood. A call resounded, clear and true, Rebuild, from free spiritual life anew. Yet, courage in souls was in short supply, For radical demands, few dared to try. To win individuals, understanding the situation, To make demands of a free foundation. Social work tentative, efforts made, Yet the most crucial task in the light's shade. Enlighten minds by every possible means, Not yet productive in cultural scenes. Becoming, evolving, in the process we're in, To illuminate what's socially necessary, a vital spin. The echoes of Oriental mystic lore, Whispered truths not heard anymore. Yet, unproductive still in cultural strife, The quest—to make life's spirit independent, to breathe life. The life of rights, the second stream's tale, Cudgel in our culture, a system frail. Harking back to Egypt's ancient lore, Mystery cultures entangled, forevermore. Catholic Church, a jurisprudence form, Mingling with Rome, in a spiritual storm. Yet, unlinked, streams in chaos blend, No organic connection, no harmonious bend. The third stream weaves a tale of trade, From London to New York, the roots laid. Commercial life's customs, a distant echo, Of ancient rituals, from Earth's glow.