Murli R

Sonnet — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #16

The Feet of Krishna, the Lord and Master of all existence.

A lass by the shores of a purple sea
Dreamt of her Lover and Paramour.
He rode to her in his ship of filial ecstasy
In the swagger of a crimson hour.

They swapped gazes as their body became
Vastly one and many-limbed and myriad of white.
The strolling gods indifferent but smiled at them,
And heavens into them unasked descended.

Nay, not a shore in a mind of light,
Not a half-lit sphere of Twilight-born,
But Krishna’s own immense paradise of delight,
In which his companionship is for ever won.

Souls that plunge into mire and earth’s darkness
Shalt arrive nude at the shores of Krishna’s ineffable bliss.

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Sonnet — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #15

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 teasing and joyous.

My body engrossed in Thy appointed mire
Seeks not the heavens of stunning blue
Or the rapture of Thy spirit’s aureate curvature,
But Thy presence in a tiny froth of a cell true.

Thy radiant heavens may ascend endless into Thy infinity,
But in here in a simple cell abide Thy all-eternity.

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Sonnet — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #14

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 in strange distress,
While the demon-horde blinkered by His distraction.

He threw me into a pool of pricking joys,
As I was divested of my earthly mud.
As He stood laughing and boasting of His excesses,
I saw through His charade His benevolent light.

O ye mortals ever waylaid of worldly charms,
Earn Thy privilege to be ambushed by His bliss.

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Sonnet — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #13

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.

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Sonnet — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #12

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 worlds to Him reveal their unknown secrets,
In man He reveals Himself most.

All frightening gloom and despair melt,
When He strides through man’s mortal ignorance.
All knowledge and light into man descend measureless,
When he looks to the firmament of His delight.

When man becomes a god of his own destiny,
He grows into a wide measure of Krishna’s ecstasy.

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Poetry — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #10

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 Life it grows from Mind to Supermind beyond belief.

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Poetry — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #9

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.

At last I woke up in Thy brood of illimitable light;
I still waking dream and dream with the rest.

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Sonnet — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #8

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 Spirit’s myriad motion;
The sage by God’s passion joyously discover.

A sage of knowledge is God’s eternal gaze,
His knowledge not a mortal’s trifle,
But adorns the beauty of His infinite forms
By soul’s philosophy sublime and subtle.

The three sages are a one spirit in infinite movement;
To clasp and be clasped is the purpose secretly fulfilled.

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Poem — Daily Poetry for The Master of Works #7

Rapture-buoys floating upon
The wide seas of my soul,
Like happy dreamy children
Squatted in even motion awhile.

One incarnated of a primal word
Leapt to freedom of choice;
Another still dreamy and cold
Sought the embrace of a denser bliss.

The wide seas of His spirit
My soul a portion is
Does not punish or reward,
But apportions itself to individualise.

God hath a dream man must embody,
God hath a design man must wear,
God to man must lean from His ecstasy,
From man God involved rise and aspire.

In the Ocean of the ineffable All
Lie the seas of my myriad soul.

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Murli R

Murli R

Founder@goldenlatitude. Lover of Sanskrit, Latin, Greek & the English Metre. Mostly write on Sri Aurobindo’s Yoga, whom I earnestly follow within and without.