The Mother of the Golden All

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A child of the Mother
is always a child unto the last —
even unto the last achievement
and fulfilment.

Nolini Kanta Gupta

July 26, 1958


The Infinite is She. Therefore infinite was my folly to have ventured my pen to set forth her life ever unknowable. But the Mother's Bounty is infinitely more powerful than my error, however grave.

Since the dawn of earth-time the Mother as the Shakti has walked the soil along with her Divine Compeers, the Avatars. Alas, our ignorance paid no heed to her supernal Love and Grace. To the Avatars alone we built our altars. Their Shaktis remained almost concealed, and at times even ignored by humanity. Unnoticed, as it were, they appeared on the scene and unnoticed they disappeared.

But according to our Master, "In her deep and great love for her children she has put on the cloak of this obscurity, condescended to bear the attacks and torturing influences of the Falsehood, borne to pass through the portals of the birth that is a death, taken upon herself the pangs and sorrows and sufferings of the creation, since it seemed that thus alone could it be lifted to the Light and Joy and Truth and eternal Life. This is the great sacrifice called sometimes the sacrifice of the Purusha, but much more deeply the holocaust of the Prakriti, the sacrifice of the Divine Mother."

But this time our Mother, the Mother of the Golden All, has accepted the human cloak at her sweet will with her boundless Power for the full manifestation of the Divine here on earth. Her mission in life is to create a transformed humanity.

She is the sole hope of Nectar-Bliss for those who are burning with an unquenchable thirst for the unique Birth. And She will be crowned with Triumph only when we, her children, cease to be the finite.


The difference between the Mother and man

I have but faults, She has sole Mercy high.
I have the doom, She has my haven's sky.

Her sole work

She turns the impossible for every soul
Into a bar of concise life.
Ever with enormous shaping strife
She leads us to the All-beautiful Goal.

The significance of the Mother's signature

The Bird of Grace Divine
Soaring through eternity.
Triune dots signify
Its head adamantine.

France to Asia and India

February 21, 1878

O Asia, O Ind, O tree
And the high and proud enormous bough.
Devour your blind and naked pride.
The time is ripe for you to bow

With all your great past blotted out.
Ours alone is the Mother of gleam.
The One has fertilised your large land
To reap in mirth the Light supreme;

Therefore your haughtiness knew no bound.
A galaxy of flames and seers,
Avatars were born in you to found
The Life divine in a world of tears,

And for the fusion of East and West.
But all their efforts ended in smoke.
Behold, the Mother's advent a Grace
Protecting all with a sun-wide cloak.

She is the Bridge unique, divine
Between the two extremities.
Her Birth declares, "All souls will live
With the One in a fire-pure release."

India to France

My sister sweet, your eyes are dim,
Too narrow and brief their view.
The Mother for all, all souls will thrive
Under her ruby-Blessing dew.

With Spirit's flame surcharged is my soil;
Therefore her Feet of Light
On my breast shall rest; with scarce a toil
To free the earth from Ignorance' blight.

Her Birth you cherish and I her Play.
She is our deathless Hope.
She is Mother of eternal Day.
No more in gloom we shall grope.

La Manche

(The English Channel)

I am the ceaseless surge of unique delight.
Two are the flames that kiss the highest height
And the deepest deep no one beholds save I.
One is in Paris, the other in England's eye.

My breadth is the hyphen white between the twain.
Their union is hid in dull Time-brain.
The rapture flood of their diamond amity
In years thirty and five the world will see.

He and She my left and right, with them I shine.
He is the Supreme and She the Mother divine.
To lift the doleful earth to heaven's height
Their human birth and forms of endless Might.


Five years have laboured in a secret light
To build her outer form.
The child on a seat with a back on which to lean
Sudden a pressure storm
Stupendous She feels on her body's little crown.
Too strong yet a deep delight,
The pressure immeasurable of brooding earth
Seeking the end of its night.

The Mother with her human brother

Our Mother's human brother saw the earth
Eighteen long years before his sister of lore.
Tranquillity was in flood in Mother's core,
But to ruthless ire he opened his bosom's door.

One day he saw his anger as hell's own breath;
He pushed it for ever far with his hero-will;
And from that hushful hour he cherished its death,
And lived true kin to his sister-sovereign-still.

The Bay of Bengal to the Mother Divine

March 28, 1914

A flood of joy that knows no mete am I.
Mother, with my dulcet flotes I bow to Thee.
The ocean-grey hound Thou ridest, anon thy eyes
Shall clasp the Light of the worlds in ecstasy.

Prithee, bestow on me a largess high.
My giant breast now serves thy cloak of love.
A candid rosy desire tortures my heart.
Mother, I know, I am thy eternal dove.

My child, your choice immaculate I fulfil.
By you I shall dwell with my deathless human Frame.
From here the Supreme and I shall guide the worlds.
And this your boon unique — a ceaseless fame.

The Infinite and the Mother Divine

(March 29, 1914)

They each other find in a silent gaze
From their limbs awakes the rapture-blaze.

The Infinite:

"Thy Advent makes me whole today.
I am now certain to flood the clay
With my Spirit-Vision's golden Light.
Thou art my only help in the Night."


"Thou art the proof, O Lord supreme!
That all shall be free from ignorance-dream.
I know 'the darknesses shall be
Changed into Light'.
For ever in Thee
The ceaseless fount of Life Divine:
The earth with heaven's height shall dine."

The Mother of beauty

(in Japan)

The end of sixty-five days found the Queen
Of the cosmos vast on Japan's flowering soil.
The brave offspring of Asia bathes in the sea
Of stupendous bliss rushing from her nectar-smile.

Four golden years she breathed her Love's rich breath.
"Japan alone is Art's enchanted bloom."
Her Hands of Power on her wondrous people shed
Influence divine to avert the stroke of doom.


Our love immaculate to you now flies.
Truly blessed are you; the Knowledge-Main,
Our Mother divine on you was rapt in trance,
There Her eyes visioned Siva time and again.

Two are the arms of His and never four:
This diamond truth She unveils to our reveries' door.

MCA 12. Akakura is a village on a mountain in Japan.

The Mother and Tagore

(in Japan)


I pray, fulfil an ardent choice of mine.
My 'Abode of peace' needs your all-rhythming feet.
Come with me, on the ancient breast of Ind
To found the Lore that makes all reveries sweet.


Alas, your choice, a mystic Nay must meet.
My human birth with the golden All must twine.
Although a deep refusal your outer eyes Behold,
Truly, not so; a fire-pure change divine
When the earth from Him shall win by love, —


You too shall hear His triumph's trumpet in Soul's core.

Her vision of Ganapati

(In the Prosperity Hall, Ashram)

I am Ganapati, O Mother of mine,
I long to aid Thee in Thy Play divine.
From now on I shall be thy moon-white dove.
Ever thy Decree my choice, Thy Light my love.

Who are the choosers

It is not we who choose
The Mother Divine, our Goal.
She herself within us dawns
To pierce our agelong dole.

How to change humanity

To change humanity
First your own erring shape of soul recast.
Anon your eyes shall find
Nothing around remains unchanged at last.

All triumphs yours only then

Be you a flood of sincerity.
No triumph will be denied to you.
Your heart shall own eternity
Your life shall wear God's golden hue.

Our death and immortality

Stark death was born with us following our feet
When we beheld the light of day.
But our actions' blue-gold fruit the earth will eat
Even when death our bodies did slay.

She too has a choice

Our choice is Mother's fulfilment high and vast.
Her choice, her sons with gloom shall never be downcast.
Her absence makes our lives a beggar nude.
She swims in the sea of tears for our folly rude.

Thy Soul to buy

Thy Soul to buy I come
With naked foolishness of mine.
Mother of time and unborn!
Sweeter Thou art than thy Smile divine.
Show me thy Truth unique.
Thy august Heart is the priceless seed
Which Gods too fail to buy.
Thy Feet in the world's dark mead.

The prayer of the young souls

A little more we desire, a little more,
Our bosom's argent door
Is wide open, O Mother, transfiguring come,
Make us thy sun-vast drum:
Through us thy matchless Victory Thou wilt announce,
Through us Thou wilt break the drowse
Of eyeless earth and netherland entire
And change their destiny dire.

The King of kings

And when to her Knees we cling in devotion white
My child, She says, give me the wings
Of your blind desires futile, your bungles wild.
I shall make you the King of kings.

Although I go to Thee

I go to Thee, but I hear Thee not.
I smile at Thee without the love
That is the root of thy creation vast.
Do lift my human mind above
The waves of eyeless reckless thought
That permit me not, alas, to see
All-where thy golden Knowledge-Sun
Through white and rapt eternity.

We are capable but not she

We are capable of leaving the Mother Divine
And oft-times that deed we do.
But the golden impossibility does shine
In Her Grace our hearts to quit and hew.


December 5, 1.26 A.M.

In Heaven

"Swarna, my dear sister, what now compels
Your dawn-pure eyes to swim in the sea of tears?
My heart breaks into a million fragments now.
Take off the garment of your gloomy fears."

"Sister, console my ravaged heart, I beseech.
Alas, my sweet Auro has left the earth.
Sombre pangs torture the deep heart of the vast.
No longer his Soul enjoys the human birth."

"Ah, that away you threw your eyeless dule.
All from self-choice He has stopped
his heartbeat's march.
He has left the flesh and blood and nothing more.
Are you all void by his withdrawing search?
Ecstasy, a stupendous ecstasy shall soon
Enflood your within, without, my sister sweet.
To bring on earth his golden Sun ere long
He has left his body's shrine, his human retreat.

Auro and Mira are one in Spirit's gold fire.
No fate dare divide their timeless union.
She breathes his Breath limitless august, supreme...
A seed of a newer Birth, a newer Sun."

Her Face

O earth!
but once behold her Face,
Then all for you is sun-vast Grace.
Your brave despair, your hopeless cry,
Your prison of mortality
Her gaze of Power will break the maim
Into a thousand fragments of Her Name.

Her eyes

To slake the enormous thirst of this world,
World recondite,
Her gaze swifter than arrows hurled
Through the warrior Night.

Eyes brimming with past dawns,
With aeons a-peep.
Till earth changes her forms
They'll know no sleep.

Her ears

She hears the nectar-voice of the One;
Her Ears divine are awake to Its calls.
Through her alone He fulfils his dream.
They hear our thoughts, the shadow-falls.
Our ills She bosoms as her own;
She bears the blame of all our fate.
She boons a music we cannot hear.
Mother, deathless, immaculate.

Her nose

At every pause She breathes an endless stream
Of dolorous air out from the gulfs of earth,
And exhales a boundless sea of wide new birth
From her bosom's solitudes of golden dream.

A day shall come when all will be drunk with the Sun;
Drunk with the hues of ecstasy and light
Our heart shall brave the stalwart Titan-night.
Our body's all, Her height's dominion.

Her arms

Two are the arms, the deathless armours of love
To cove the dying souls from the stabs of fear;
Ecstasy's rain from the cloudless source above
They bring, the rock of massive pain to tear.

At each hush-gap with stupendous bliss they declare,
"O marvel seraphs of Mother's immaculate Breath,
Decreed are you to rise, to wing, to dare
And march across the giant breast of Death."

Her heart

Unafraid we stand in spite of the titan sway
Within and without our core;
The Mother's breast is endless compassion-flame
The sea-room without a door.

Toil and wayfarer is She, Her heart is our Quest,
Her mission's startling sun
Will unveil when only we are awake to face
Her god-dominion.

Her feet

Two Feet pervade the brooding vast
In echoless noise to lave with light
The coom and pangs beyond surmise
That heaven may be our starkest night.
Despair and spleen and spite must pass,
The strangling souls will rise in embrace
To become undying through eternity,
To reach Her Feet's perennial Grace.

Nehru in Sri Aurobindo Ashram


Nehru, the matchless pride of India
Imbibes today the Light that guides the world.
The future's face within the Glow is unveiled;
A self-revealing calm now feeds his eyes.
He cons the Motto wherein abides our heart-beats.
The Mother upon his far-winging mind bestows
The Ecstasy sublime; and her Love unknown
With fire-pure truth kindles his colossal soul.
He fears no more the burden of sombre fate;
Victory shall bloom and Peace shall hug the earth.

Nehru in J.S.A.S.A.


Rapture tortures our heart to see Nehru
Within the diamond-womb of fleeting time.
Capture our core his eyes of opal calm.
For his rare smile we practised our young skill.
Who says the human soul is a chimera's mist?
An immortality is our hidden form,
A body divine our aim's apocalypse.
Beside him stands the Future's perfect Fire.
The Power supreme drunk deep, slowly he goes;
His presence clutching the warrior-sparks of Noon.

Our President with the Mother Divine


Slowly he came and slowly away he went
A quiet peak of India's might and love.
At last he knew Her who throws the flood-peace down.
In silence-fire he bathed in her sea of Grace.
"Mother, O Mother mine, Mother supreme
Thou art!
the fear of war aside cast.
Torture our feeble hearts with thy Spirit's Blaze,
And sow in us the seed of surrender-light.
Who says we are eyeless when thy Grace is guide?"
"In Truth alone abides the Victor-Sun.
Proclaim it now in mirth — my high command —
And India, the nectar-hope of earth."

The Mother's music-fire

New-year's day, 1956

The Life Divine with a burning joy of peace
Slowly now grows in her music-fire.
Our human dole and ignorance dire
Are lost in the Mother's undying Truth-abyss.

She builds a golden road between our breath
Of yearning and the sovereign Grace.
We see our Master's ruby blaze
Upon our inner buds that know no death.

Our heart-beats dance with her music-waves of Light.
Her Voice of all-transforming lore
Commands the daring souls to soar
Beyond the peaks unseen of sky-delight.

Her zenith victory's vast descent today.
A world unknown She unveils upon the clay.

The Mother of the diamond morn

(at Balcony 6 a.m.)

A frame divine intense, aglow
With unique Grace and Love
To make us soar above
The skies and free us from titan blow.
We offer to Her at each hush-gap
Our feeble, puny thoughts
And life's million knots
To seize in our core the Spirit's Sap.

The eternal player

(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.

The Mother of volcano-will

5 p.m.
(in athletics)

Get to your mark, set, boom.
Anon the crown or doom.
The hero sparks of Noon
To have her striding boon
Draw quick her Will and Strength.
We pine to cover the length
Swifter than speed of light
And to kill the torpid Night.
Ever our moment's cloak
Must needs her Grace invoke,
For body alone the fane
Of Queen to devour earth's bane
And Life Divine to found
On soil aspiring unbound.

The Mother's wristwatch

"Mother of mine, beyond the sombre grip
Of time art Thou veerless and ever free.
But thy Grace of love compels thy Blessing-Hand
To use my tiny beats of ecstasy,

Each supernal work of thine begins and ends
With my puny, feeble sound's tick infinite.
O who can measure save Thou my rapture strange?
Thy Grace my only breath through eternity."

"My child, I am for all, and all I use.
I guide all souls and things to my highest Fire.
But none can dare to say I stand in need,
For I alone save my core and the world entire."

The Mother's sandals

"At our bliss-dawn who dares to gaze?
But alas, my brothers, sisters bear
From morn to eve and every where
Contempt wild from the human race.

From burning soil and slushing shower
Our million comrades save mankind,
Yet thick are the faults the mortals find.
Humanity brings no dower.

Mother, between our doleful race
And us alas, what dire contrast!
Worshipped for all ages we shall last.
Off will they be kicked without praise."

"My children, aim not your anger's arrow
At breasts of human souls, nothing wrong
They do, your kin round them can throng
Only when their high service they throw
On earthly men with perfect bloom.
For you know, your future brothers as well
Must cherish the feet of men and dwell.
In it my renewal and doom."

The Mother with the flowers

Flowers too have a tongue,
They also have joy and strife.
They are the expression first
Of the psychic flame in life.
Each plane owns a colour.
She boons with names to those
That unveil to Her their skies
Rich in oneness of the source.
But those that are still and mute
Nameless, infinitesimal.
Now a thousand flowers
Cherish Her Dawn-ward call.

A complaint to the Mother


Mother, truly ungrateful are
The dingy human souls.
My labour has freed them from stark
Venomed, Inconscient doles.

Alas, in return they call me names.
Their missiles dire now hound
My aeonless breast from dawn to dusk;
To their hatred I am bound.


Offspring, speak out the blue-gold truth.
Where are your words of mail?
Why dungeon-mates of your sombre past
Why ego at you must rail?


During our ignorance-dawn she was
Our lonely teacher pure.
But we claimed not our heritage.
So this breach we needs must endure.
Spirit our only changeless guide.
To It alone we bow.
Save It our deathless Form is void.
Thou art the Tree and It the bough.


Ego, my erring, doleful child,
Aside you cast your ire.
Inevitable was your gift.
Man now needs the Spirit's Fire
To change his face and sombre fate.
The sky-vast golden Dawn
Can alone slake his sleepless thirst.
He my lion, you my fawn.

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