HABIT

A  Philosophical Poem on

the Creation of New Karma

An Anonymous Author

 A habit may be compared to a lion’s whelp

Habit at first is but a silken thread,

Fine as the light-winged gossamers that sway

In the warm sunbeams of a summer’s day;

A shallow streamlet, rippling over its bed;

A tiny sapling ere its roots are spread;

A yet unhardened thorn upon the spray;

A lion’s whelp that has not scented pray;

A little smiling child obedient led.

Beware! That thread may bind thee as a chain;

That streamlet gather to a fatal sea;

That sapling spread into a gnarled tree;

That thorn, grown hard, may wound and give thee pain;

That playful whelp his murderous fangs reveal;

That child, a giant, crush thee beneath his heel.

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The above poem was first published at the theosophical magazine “Lucifer”, in London, in its May 1890 edition, p. 224. The word “Lucifer” is the ancient wisdom  term for the planet Venus.  Since the Middle Ages its meaning has been distorted by misinformed theologians. 

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