My mind enraptured of Thy bliss Leapt into heavens beyond mortal cognition; There lingering awhile in white streams Of Thy motionless spirit returned to divine reason.
My adamant vital enflamed of Thy strength Measured the illimitable strides of abounding worlds. Midway as it strolled, it saw the chuckle and mirth Of Thy spirit…
A mercenary Divine ambushed my soul in the wee hours, While my spirit colluding with Him watched; He wrapped me around in His violent embrace, While my heart silently cheered and danced.
He took me captive to His roseate chambers In the lull of His secret garden. The gods watched me moan…
My gestures a trifle worth of my heart Are all I have for the altar of Thy love. A leaf or a half-withered flower now This mendicant’s gift unto Thy bounteous light.
A tempest fierce is reeling under my feet And rising into my limbs to scuttle and maim. Thy gesture infinite into my finite self seem Like an illumined Heaven descending into my night.
The beast and the demon still jealously guard The gates through which the embodied spirit must pass, And fire and rage and Hell’s caress Must its mead and joy be in Thy labour apportioned.
A trifle of my spirit is my own human mess; Accept it as Thou wouldst accept a broken edifice.
The human is still riddled with an animal form, A hazy fresco of a spirit in motion. He is a mind ascending to Spirit and Divine, He is a soul mired in Nature’s infernal dream.
A Godhead dwells in his secret heart, A Lover and a Friend in a limbless ease. All…
An apportioned Intelligence works in the burning depths, An indivisible Whole as if divided seems: It marshals mind and heart and soul Into flames of rapture of the Immortal. It grows out of a seed into a branching tree And bears limbs and graces of a flowering body. This apportioned Intelligence is the Seed of Life; By…
I by a dream of Thee a worm and beast and man became, I by Thy waking a godhead and a spirit embody. All by Thy dream flourish into forms of Thy sun, I by Thy breath shaped into a reed of ecstasy.
A sage of work is God’s dear emissary, His skills not embalmed in worldly amber, But put to use by tools of Spirit’s mastery; The sage by God’s own works grow and aspire.
A sage of devotion is God’s cherished expression, His devotion not mixed of human mire. But given happily to…
Founder@goldenlatitude. Lover of Sanskrit, Latin, Greek & the English Metre. Mostly write on Sri Aurobindo’s Yoga, whom I earnestly follow within and without.