* 1. THE MOTHER
:PROPERTIES: :id: :genre: poem :cite-key: FLW:1
* 1. THE MOTHER
:PROPERTIES: :id: :genre: poem :cite-key: FLW:1
Thy vast of bliss enfolds our mortal sheaths,
Thy smile from eternity unlids our eyes.
O Thou! the Flame that hymns of creation new,
Thy Blaze transmutes our poison-paradise.
Who dares to love thy diamond Heart of love?
Lover of the self-same stupendous Soul —
Within, without a world of nectar’s flood
Sporting with thy ever-unhorizoned whole.
Out of a marvel process of time-toil
Thy gnostic Sun flowers in the gloom of earth.
The clay is not a dream, a chimera’s mist —
In Thee she shall awake to golden birth.
O Height beyond the heights,
O Deep beyond the deeps, Thou art still!
Mother of Light supreme!
We feel not thy flaming breath of Will.
To raze our million lies,
To reveal the Spirit’s cosmic task
Thy vast apocalypse
In secret dwells in our nature’s dusk.
O Queen of zenith unseen!
The Play of Death within Thee ends.
The Sun, thy golden child,
Upon the world’s nakedness descends.
O Mother-Fire! thy storm-eyed ken
Tortures my eyeless fate.
Before me shine all wonder-ways
Of thy immortal Gate.
The face of rapture thy stroke unveils.
Matchless for ever Thou art
To make us reach the Peak unknown,
The One’s all-embracing Heart.
The fount of Power at thy Feet abides.
Thy cosmic dance of Noon
Throws fast on earth the nectar-floods
Of snow-white fire-pure Moon.
Mother of rapture, Thee we seize!
Our eyes of tears now smile in Thee.
To quench our thirst thy ruby Love,
Thy Power we clasp from thy silence-sea.
So near art Thou, O Mother Dawn!
In bliss to answer our moon-white call.
A world of hush sublime is thy Dream.
In Thee alone the golden All.
Before Thee quivers the battle of Night.
Thy Grace supreme is Nature’s Soul.
In us Thou hast sown the immortal seeds;
Thy joy shall flood our triumph’s goal.
Thy Heart of music-Fire consumes our drowse,
Nowhere our journey ends.
Thy patience unknown all souls must learn from Thee
To march through immortal lands.
We hurt thy Heart’s arabesque supreme of bliss.
Ever unplumbed is thy Ruth.
Our sheaths’ afflicted roots imbibe thy Grace;
In Thee the tapestry of Truth.
All worlds with ignorance blind immerse in Thy Light,
O Queen of perfection-sea!
Thy birth of Lore supreme within us bursts
And makes us eternal, free.
(December 5, 1950)
Today, today beholds the world entire
The snow-trance of the deathless Sovereign.
His fire-winged Will clasps firm the withes of dust;
No more the ignorance-chain.
A blazing hope that knows not how to cease
Now flies through earth’s sky-breast.
He was, He is, and shall be; nowhere his end,
And He, the brooding Nest
Of teeming vast and immortality.
Our nature’s creative flow
To Him now leaps with heart immaculate.
The pinnacled Guide and Glow
Is He, and He the sacrifice sublime.
The Gnostic Sun from Him
Bursts forth, the golden All floods the Mother’s core
Of hyaline immortal Dream.
(December 9, 1950)
With folly futile thy spirit’s core to buy
We have come, O Master sweet!
The Mother with Pole-Star-Eye commands our hearts
The ignorance-dream to quit.
The armoured breasts of the Gods we all behold
Around thy citadel-deeps.
Night and Death now weep in awe unknown
Before thy Apocalypse.
The born and unborn drink deep from Thee the Grace,
O Fountain of all!
The hurtful roar of ignorance stark is hushed
With all its venom-gall.
The sky, the sun and moon, the host of stars
Announce thy victory vast,
Thy trance of fire broods immortality
Upon the aspiring dust.
A sun-vast silence, freedom of Void supreme
Around the triumphant Altar of our heart’s king.
His Will bodied, unbodied ever shall last,
Time but a child in his all-embracing Wing.
The far-off rapture and wisdom here we meet;
The Breath of life burns pure within this Shrine.
Here eyeless errors reach the unflickering Fire,
His Immortality, the Boon divine.
On earth obscure to fulfil His mission sublime
The riddles of all the contraries abide.
All worlds are His, He the creation vast
And He our goal, the one unfailing Guide.
The flame-haven, a dawn of deathless birth,
To summit vast a flight of steps from earth.
No mind, no form, I only exist;
Now ceased all will and thought.
The final end of Nature’s dance,
I am It whom I have sought.
A realm of bliss bare, ultimate;
Beyond both knower and known;
A rest immense I enjoy at last;
I face the One alone.
I have crossed the secret ways of life,
I have become God-soul.
The Truth immutable is revealed;
I am the way, the goal.
My spirit aware of all the heights,
I am mute in the core of the Sun,
I barter nothing with time and deeds;
My cosmic play is done.
FLW 10,3. In later editions of this poem, lines 2 and 4 of the third paragraph are published in a different form.↩
Thy Feet of immortal lustre are all my world,
My life, a worship of Thy Form divine,
My haven, the fulness of Thy desire unfurled,
Extinction of earth’s will in Thee is mine.
Devoutness of my heart Thy Bounty’s rays,
The splendour of Thy Compass is my might,
The ken of Thine is my liberation’s ways,
Blessings of Thee on me Thy Acceptance-light.
My realm, Thy world unveiled of supernal Play,
Mine is the whole of Thy eternal swing,
My loneliness is the fire-touch of Thy ray,
And that alone the door unclosed to Thee, King!
The Form of my form is Thy Apocalypse,
The Fountain of my thoughts is Thy Will’s Sun,
Existence thine my song’s citadel-deeps,
My bow the withdrawal of “I”, and union.
FLW 11. (Translated from Sahana Devi's Bengali poem.)↩
(At the Balcony)
The aspiration-fire in our breast abides
To seize, O Mother! thy eyes’ ascending surge.
In vain ends not our longing’s secret urge;
In silence we wait to see where thy Spirit hides.
To Thee is known our nature’s hurrying course;
Our mortal sight pines for thy deathless Will.
Mother, turn faster our evolving wheel,
This truth we know — thy boundless Love, thy Force.
With groping mind for guide, we can but fall;
Through infinite pangs we come to Thee at last.
With nectared bliss our heart’s long thirst is past.
Yet vagrant thoughts make us a brittle doll.
O golden Fount of All! Thy Dawn sublime
Shall lead all souls beyond the clutch of Time.
(At the Tennis Court by the beach)
I am Thy offspring blue, god of the sea;
With my descending surge I bow to Thee,
And feel, O Player eternal! thy Game divine
Blessing the human souls that round Thee shine.
Each “stroke” of Thine awakes a swift-eyed rose
Of surrender-light to hush our earth-billows
Of time-built ignorance, O mighty Power!
Thy “service” bestows on dust an immortal shower.
Thy golden Hand’s outward and inward “swings”
Show in thy Body how Spirit’s Creation springs.
Thy Grace the warrior-sparks of Noon invoke,
Our fateful race awaits the starter’s stroke.
Thy Bounty sweet beyond our gaze abides;
Who will clasp first the goal thy Law decides?
From Thee we learn, in thy play divine our task.
Vanished in awe our body’s torpid mask.
To shun the world we saw not the light of day,
But to catch in our body’s line thy Vision’s Ray.