The Rebel Soul
Disembodied, floating free,
Swept above the windy hills,
Lashing at the rolling sea,
Fleeing where the spirit wills,
A soul unleashed across the world
To speed its way, with freedom full
It leaps, its outstretched tendrils coiled
To rip and rend; a cyclone bull.
It has no ties that bind to earth,
It knows no bonds to hold its form,
But writhes and twists and howls its mirth
And has its being in the storm.
Upon its thought there is no reign
Upon its heart there is no hold;
An entity in joyous strain
That knows IT IS, so can be bold.
— Grady L. McMurtry
Originally published in Thelema Lodge Calendar, January & February 1990