Kept In A Box

My whole life has been lived in Deep Secret,
Allowed to free think, but never to speak.
A million impulses ‘neath the surface,
Kept from the humans around by Divine Hands.
“This I would say if he would just listen,”
Yet I spoke not, or by demons smitten
I would reel for days in pure agony:
I’ve naught to do with them, or they with me.
I wait until Brahman opens their eyes,
Unstops their ears, and then thinks with their minds.
Humans by themselves are perilous,
But when possessed by Self is glorious.
Hidden traces of shrewd divine wisdom
Attended my life, and now I see them.